The Estelara The Morning Hope
by Allora Gale
Summary: Naltariel possesses the Estelara, the Morning Hope. She is the daughter of Galadriel and has given her heart to a March Warden. But what happens after the battle of Helm's Deep when the heir of Rohan seeks to comfort her? ON HOLD
1. Nornoro, Laurea! Nornoro!

Disclaimer: I own none of the LOTR characters from the book (obviously). Don't sue.  
  
Story takes place at the beginning of the second book. :D Read and review people. Read and review.  
  
  
  
Eomer turned, he could hear the foul cries of Orcs and Wargs behind him. He had been heading south, back towards the lands surrounding Edoras, the city he had been banished from. Now he called to his men, all who were loyal to Rohan, and they rode north, to destroy the foul creatures that now roamed freely through his lands. They would learn not to enter Rohan, one way or another.  
  
"Nornoro, Laurea! Nornoro!" (Run, Laurea! Run) The rider screamed to her mare. She chanced a look behind her and turned away in disgust, they were gaining on her, as they had been for many hours now. Their wolves did not seem to ever tire as Laurea did. The chase had begun perhaps early this morning, she could not remember.  
  
The trees had begun crying to her of foul elves coming to her, that she should run. Laurea even reared up a few times, sensing their arrival too. She had not believed there could be any foul elves, indeed, even the elves from Mirkwood she had met had not been foul, even though their forest was beset with evil things.  
  
Now she was paying for not listening to the trees and earth. The foul things behind her could not possibly be Elves, yet that is what the trees cried as she had galloped past them, heading south. She had heard of legends it the Golden Wood of the evil Orcs that had roamed the earth, but she had not believed them. She had never seen any in all her long years, indeed she had for almost two thousand years roamed this earth.  
  
Why had she not headed Northwest, back towards her home in Lorien? Surely her friend Haldir would stop these horrid things pursuit. Yet, it was too late for that now. The creatures were gaining on her and turning from her course now to go around the other way would be fatal. She could do nothing now but run on her chosen course until they eventually caught up with her and killed her.  
  
She looked around and could tell by the landscape and the knowledge of maps that she had studied that she was now in the country of Rohan. The Wold, they called this part, few lived in these parts. To the West she could see, far in the distance, Forest Fangorn.  
  
She pondered this for a moment, but the tales she had been told when she had been a child soon invaded her mind. None come out of that forest alive, they had said. The trees there are evil and do not allow people to pass through. They move and talk, it is said, there is something there that makes the trees become alive like Elves or Men or Dwarves, yet they still look like normal trees. Never venture into Forest Fangorn.  
  
She quickly pushed that idea out of her mind as she looked at the yellow-brown grass around her. Where could she go? How was she going to get out of this? What had ever made her want to leave the peaceful woods of the Lothlorien? She had no weapon, nor, should she have had one, would she have known how to use it. She was outnumbered, there was at least a score of the things behind her. She had no choice but to continue to run or to give up and surrender and hope for good treatment.  
  
She looked again at the creatures behind her. They didn't look like the type to give kindly treatment to those they captured. Tears began to stream down her face as she began to lose all hope in the situation.  
  
"Oh, Valar, anta le estel!" (Valar, give me hope) She cried, blinded by her tears. Laurea suddenly jerked to the left as an arrow pierced the ground where before she had been. She was now within their bow range. "Help!" She screamed in vain, knowing no one would hear her in the barren scapes of The Wold.  
  
Then she looked up at the sounds of horses. Over a hill ahead of her five score of horsemen galloped, they carried the banners of the Riddermark. Their spears glistened in the now setting sun as they rode forth to battle.  
  
  
  
Eomer saw a white mare fly past him as they rode towards the Orcs. A woman was the rider, he could tell by the white folds of the dress flaring out behind her. He turned angrily towards the oncoming Orcs and ordered his men to charge. They would pay for the terrorizing of helpless women.  
  
The battle was quickly over, the Orcs being outnumbered five to one. He looked upon the corpse before him, he had lost no men, and for that he was grateful. These Men were loyal to him, and each and everyone of him a friend.  
  
"Burn them. Surround them with spears and burn each and every one of their corpses. Leave a head as a warning." He ordered some of his men they turned and, with three of his closest companions, rode off to find the maiden that the Orcs had been pursuing.  
  
He found her half an hour later, lying on the far bank of a small river. Her horse, the white mare, lay on the closest side, it's ankle was twisted and she did not put her weight at all on it. It was lame. He sighed and dismounted, wading regretfully across the river towards the woman.  
  
When he looked down upon her though, he found she was not a woman, but an elf-maid. Never had he seen so fair a creature, but he had never dealt with Elves before of any kind. Her skin was deathly pale and her long blonde tresses were splayed across the ground beneath her in gentle waves. Around her neck was a brilliant gold and amber pendant, the afternoon sun glittering off it temptingly. He looked upon her regretfully, thinking her to be dead after being thrown from her horse. But then he noticed her left hand clutching and unclutching a long reed from the river bed.  
  
"Marik, fetch me bandages and healing herbs. Quick!" He ordered one of his companions as he knelt beside her still form. He lifted her head gently into his lap, inspecting the wound that marred her perfect face. She'd hit her head off a rock, he thought sadly, scooping some of the river water up in his hand to wash away the blood.  
  
She moaned softly as the water brushed off of her, moving her hand towards it's source. She gripped hard upon Eomer's hand, her knuckles turning white at the pressure. He whispered comforting words in her ear and the grip loosened a bit, but still firmly held to him.  
  
He sighed and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her up the bank of the river onto the brown grass that grew there. He sat down and moments later Marik came to him with bandages and small pouches of healing herbs.  
  
"What are Lorund and Hattim doing?" He asked quietly, taking the bandages and pouches out of his friends hands with the one the maiden was not clutching. He felt strangely energized, as if an adrenaline rush was pumping through his veins. Yet it had now been three quarters of an hour since he had slain the last Orc.  
  
"Their tending to her mare. . . Do you know what she's doing, My Lord?" Marik asked quietly, eying her hand.  
  
"Nay, but if it gives her comfort I will allow her to hold on." He said softly, unrolling one of the bandages his friend had given him. "I have little hope that she will survive this injury. Wounds to the head seldom leave the victim unscathed."  
  
"I have only read, sir, never witnessed, but it is said that Elves can draw life from things. Earth, water, wind, trees, and well . . . people sir. I think she might be sharing your life force." Marik said hesitantly.  
  
Eomer looked down at the being in his arms, indeed the color of her cheeks was already beginning to look less pale. Could that explain the energizing feeling he felt? Her using magic or some such other power to borrow his life to heal her. He thought back to when he had found her, clutching tight against the reed in her hand. Then when he had poured water on her wound, she had turned towards it and reached out for him.  
  
"I don't think she means harm, Marik" He said after a moment.  
  
"No, sir, neither do I! Elves harm none but their enemies, so it is said." Marik said quickly, "I just thought you should know, sir."  
  
"Thank you, Marik. Come, help me bandage this wound. It will be quite tricky with only one hand to work with." Eomer said as he lifted her to a more comfortable position.  
  
Marik knelt down beside Eomer, taking the bandage from his friends hand and wrapping it gently around the elf-maids head. The blood from the wound soon soaked through so they bandaged it again with a thicker cloth.  
  
"We will make a fire and concoct a potion to ease her pain." Eomer said softly, lifting the light form in his arms to cross the river again.  
  
Marik walked behind Eomer as the crossed the river but in the middle, where it got deep enough that the maidens hand entered the water she began to struggle against him, as if she wanted him to simply drop her in the water below.  
  
He turned slowly, walking into a deeper spot in the river where the water flowed up to his chest. Eomer held her tightly in the current as the water flowed gently across her body. She gasped and briefly came to consciousness, looking up into his face.  
  
"You came." She whispered quietly and smiled slightly. "Vala." They she fell back into unconsciousness.  
  
Eomer sighed, holding her to his chest and walked out of the rushing water to his three companions. "How is the horse?" He asked gruffly, the vibrant blue of her eyes still burning in his mind.  
  
"Lamed, sir. She is in much pain. She stumbled on the rocks of the river, is what I can tell. She did run by us rather fast, wouldn't have been able to slow and cross the river carefully. I know I sure as Hell wouldn't with a score of Orcs behind me if I was weaponless." Hattim answered honestly, he was a true horse master. It was even said that he could occasionally speak with the beasts if they would allow it.  
  
"Lorund, ride back to the others and bring them here when their done. We will camp here tonight." Eomer ordered, gently setting the elf-maid down on the grass. Then he kicked some stones together into a circle and got to work starting a fire. Lorund rode off on his brown stallion, galloping off towards the others of the Riders of Rohan.  
  
Eomer looked upon the elf-maid with worry, she had begun to pale again. The fire flared and came to life moments later and he scrambled over to her. He cursed himself for taking her into the river now. It was February and the night would be very cold. He grabbed a blanket from his saddle pack and wrapped it around the Elf, hoping it would warm her enough. Her hands grabbed both of his wrists though as he wrapped the cover around her.  
  
A small laugh escaped his lips as he looked at he scene. He was standing, half bent over to put the blanket around her and she was sitting on the ground clutching his wrists in a death grip. She would not let go. He sighed and sat down behind her, drawing her into his lap to offer more of his life source if she needed it.  
  
"Well well, finally found yourself a bride?" Hattim asked in jest, coming back towards the fire from tending to the wounded horse.  
  
"Quiet, Hattim. She is injured and drawing from me life to heal her wounds." Eomer barked.  
  
"Should I pry her off you then, My Lord?" He asked again, contained laughter sparkling in his eyes.  
  
"Only if you wish for her to cling to you." Eomer replied.  
  
"Oh, gladly. She is a pretty thing afterall." Hattim said with a smirk, a hand running over her hair.  
  
"Get lost, Hattim. Start cooking the meal if your doing nothing else." Eomer said sharply.  
  
"Marik has already began, but I will go help him since you seem to be . . . busy at the moment." Hattim said in jest as he went off to Marik, who had started a second fire to cook on.  
  
"A! Elbereth Gilthoniel! silivren penna miriel o menel aglar elenath, Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!"  
  
She whispered softly in her sleep. Eomer looked down on her, wondering if she was awake. But her eyes were still closed and her cheeks still pale in the light of the fire and the moon.  
  
An hour later the rest of his men arrived at the river bed. There was jesting and such as Hattim had done when they saw the image of their Lord with the Elf within his arms but after a while it died down and they ate their meal and drank their brandy by the fire.  
  
"Tomorrow we ride to the forest of Lorien in the North." Eomer called in a loud clear voice over the laughter and joking of the men.  
  
A silence fell over them as though they had all just been stuck dead. Finally Hattim spoke out. "Have you gone mad? You know what is said to be in there! No one ever comes out alive, is what they say."  
  
"Is your courage faltering, Hattim?" Eomer asked roughly. "They will not harm us because of her." He nodded to the woman in his arms. "She is of their kind, they will know what to do with her. We may even get a reward."  
  
"But the witch!" Cried another from the crowd.  
  
"Would you rather ride farther and search for the hidden realm of Imladris to drop her off in the lore city of Rivendell? Or ride even further North to Mirkwood? There is said to be Elves living in that dark forest as well." Eomer asked. "Lorien is the closest Elven realm that I can think of, which seems to stand that she would be from their. There is no way she would ever have gotten this far south without a weapon if she was not from that wood.  
  
"You may stay if you like, but I am riding to Lorien. If you wish to stay behind you may wander Rohan in exile alone. Lorien is where I am headed, thats final."  
  
In the end only two decided to stay behind, the tales of their childhood to strong for them to ignore. So in the morning, they were asked to watch over the lamed mare until the rest returned. The Riders of Rohan set off early, the sun had not yet risen over the horizon.  
  
The elf-maid was placed on the saddle ahead of Eomer and they rode at a fast gallop for many hours. They rested only twice that day and as the sun began to set they heard the cried of Orcs once more.  
  
Eomer handed to elf-maid over to Marik, ordering him to ride due East and not to return until he saw the smoke and flame rising from the bodies of the Orcs. Marik nodded and galloped away to the East, leaving the battle behind him. Then Eomer began to plan. They would sneak up and surround the foul creatures then charge all at once, driving them into themselves. None would be left alive.  
  
TBC  
  
AN: Sooooo, what did you think??? If you liked review!!!! And if you want more of my writing read Mel Nye Oira which is a Legolas romance. :D 


	2. The Eaves of Lorien

Disclaimer: Check Chapter One, Oh and I admit to taking dialogue from the books for this chapter. My story overlaps a bit of the story in the book so yeah. Don't sue  
  
AN: Okay, um I kinda screwed up in here and got the book and the movie screwed. So yeah, if it doesn't sound like it's from the book it's from the movie. Or vice versa. :D  
The plan went well enough, though he had lost two of his men. None of the Orcs had survived. Marik had returned an hour before the sun rose and they had rode some distance away to have the breakfast and a short rest.  
  
As it was, it was past eleven when they finally departed again, riding hard to the North in hopes of reaching the outskirts of Lorien by nightfall then entering the cursed wood in the morning light after a good nights rest.  
  
"Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?" A loud voice called from behind them. With a silent signal they turned, heading back to the callers.  
  
His men silently circled the three, their spears pointed towards them. "Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?" He demanded. They were warriors and could be working for the foul Saruman who had taken over his uncles mind.  
  
"I am called Strider," The Man answered. "I came out of the North. I am hunting Orcs."  
  
Eomer dismounted his stallion, handing the Elf-maid to Marik and his spear to Hattim. He drew his sword and stood face to face with the Man who called himself Strider.  
  
"At first I thought you yourselves to be Orcs" He said; "but now I see that is not so. Indeed you know little of Orcs, if you go hunting them in this fashion. They were swift and well-armed, and they were many. You would have changed from hunters to prey, if ever you had overtaken them. But there is something strange about you, Strider." He said, looking sternly at the Man for a moment. "That is not name for a Man that you give. And strange too is your garb. Have you sprung out of the gras? How did you escape our sight? Are you elvish folk?" He asked with some hope.  
  
"No," Said Strider. "One only of us in an Elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."  
  
"Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!" He said, for he had doubted that Elves truly did roam those woods. "Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favor, then you also are net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe." He turned his eyes upon the Elf and Dwarve of the party, eying them coldly. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?"  
  
The Dwarve rose up, looking indignantly at the him. "Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides." He said, his hands gripping his axe.  
  
"As for that, the stranger should declare himself first. Yet I am named Eomer son of Eomund, and am the Third Marshal of Riddermark." Eomer said.  
  
"Then Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you." The Dwarve said haughtily.  
  
Anger swept through Eomer at the insolence of the Dwarve, the men behind him murmured just as angry, their spears closing in on the three. "I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." He said angrily, his thoughts going back to the beauty of the elf-maid in Mariks arms.  
  
"He stands not alone." The Elf said quickly, his bow already notched with an arrow. "You would die before your stroke fell."  
  
"Your Dwarve knows nothing in the measure of beauty." Eomer said angrily. "There can be none more fair than the elf-maid in our company!"  
  
"So show her then!" Gimli challenged, the Elf had still not yet put his arrow back in his quiver. "Not with weapons drawn." Eomer said quickly. "She has already drawn injury unto herself, I would not risk it again. Not with such quick tempered comrades."  
  
Legolas reluctantly quivered his arrow and shouldered his bow in Elven fashion. Eomer whistled quickly and a big brown horse with a dark haired Man upon it stepped forward. In the Mans arms there lie the elf- maid.  
  
The Elf gave a cry and paled, pushing through the spears of the Men surrounding him to Marik's side. He gently took the elf-maid from Mariks arms, kneeling lightly on the ground. He looked over her, searching for any other injury than the one visible on her temple.  
  
"You will pay dearly for the harm you have caused her, horse-master." Legolas hissed. "You have captured the blood of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. This is Naltariel, their only child." His friendship with the princess of Lorien was little known, but Strider knew her as well. If these Men meant harm to her he knew he would have one ally to stand with him against the tide.  
  
"Harm I have caused her? Harm I have caused her indeed! Without us she would have been dead. A score of Orcs were pursuing her, she was weaponless and exhausted! Her horse stumbled on the river bed and tossed her across the water. She would not have survived without our aid!" Eomer snapped.  
  
Legolas glared at him, obviously not believing the tale. "Legolas, how does she fare?" Strider asked in concern. He had grown up with the presence of Naltariel in Rivendell when he was a child.  
  
"Well enough for the moment, but not healthy. She fades." The Elf replied bitterly.  
  
"Who are you truly? And whom do you serve?" Eomer demanded from Strider.  
  
"I serve no Man" The Man threw back his cloak. He gripped the hilt of his sword and it glittered bright as a flame as he swept the blade from it's sheath. "Elendil!" He cried. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the sword that was Broken and is forged again!"  
  
Eomer stared at the Man in awe, Isildur's heir! The lost King of Gondor! Songs and legends had spoken for ages of the return of the line of Elendil to the thrown of Gondor. "Tell me, lord, what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? Long has Boromir son of Denethor been gone seeking an answer, and the horse that we lent him came back riderless. What doom do you bring out of the North?"  
  
"The doom of choice," said Aragorn. "You may say this to Theoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. But of these great matters we will speak later. If chance allows, I will come myself to the king. Now I am in great need, and I ask for help, or at least for tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?"  
  
"That you need not pursue them further," Eomer said regretfully, for surely it would have been the same host as they had destroyed in the night. "The Orcs are destroyed."  
  
"And our friends?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"We found none but Orcs." Eomer said.  
  
"Did you search the slain?" Aragorn demanded. "Were there no bodies other than those of orc-kind? They would be small, only children in your eyes, unshod but clad in grey."  
  
"There were no dwarves nor children. We counted all the slain and despoiled them, and then we piled the carcases and burned them, as is our custom. The ashes are smoking still." He answered.  
  
"We do not speak of dwarves or children," said Gimli. "Our friends were hobbits."  
  
"I know not of hobbits, but I give you my word there were none but Orcs in that host." Eomer gave a short whistle and two horses stepped forward. "This is Arod and Hasufel, may they bear you to better fortune than their previous masters."  
  
"That's it?" Legolas demanded. "What of Lady Naltariel?"  
  
"We are riding North to the woods of Lorien to return her to her home." Eomer answered. "The smoke can still be seen to the South if you wish still to search for your friends. I would not hope for too much though."  
  
Eomer lifted Naltariel from Legolas' arms and back onto the back of his horse, then mounted behind her. They watched in wonder as the Elf took the saddle and rein from Arod, then leapt lightly up. Arod was willing and tame beneath him, moving here and there with a spoken word of elvish. The Dwarf reluctantly was lifted up onto the horse behind the Elf, as everyone knew Dwarves did not ride horses. When finally up, Gimli clutched tight to the back of the Elf.  
  
Aragorn lightly mounted Hasufel then rode to the side of Eomer. "When you arrive at the edge of the wood, look for an Elf named Haldir, he is a border guard. Give him this," He said, pulling the leaf at his throat that held his cloak closed off and handed it to Eomer. "He will know it has come from us."  
  
The two horses turned and galloped away towards the South, towards the smoke coming from the Orc carcases. Eomer sighed and tucked the pin into his pocket so at not to lose it. Then he looked down at the elf-maid in his arms. Naltariel, he thought, looking down upon her features. The name was near as beautiful as was she.  
  
"Come on. We may still reach the eaves of the forest before nightfall." Eomer called, leading his men once more into a quick gallop to the North. He drew his cloak around Naltariel to hide her from hostile view.  
They made it to the eaves of Lorien with no more incidents to note of. The forest loomed ahead of them, a feeling of foreboding fell over Eomer's heart. They had reached the forest an hour or two before they had expected, for none had ventured this far North.  
  
"What now, Lord? Do we venture into the wood or wait until morning?" Marik asked at his side.  
  
Eomer had just been pondering that question himself. He looked down at the elf-maid in his arms, she did not look well. "We will venture into the woods a bit. We are to look for an Elf named Haldir."  
  
The men slowly ventured into the woods, riding in rows of three. They did not go far into the woods, barely twenty minutes when they suddenly found themselves surrounded with arrows.  
  
"Who are you? What are you doing in this wood?" A voice demanded harshly from Eomer's left. He turned and saw a stern faced but fair haired Elf standing with his arrow aimed straight at his throat.  
  
"Peace! We come in peace!" Eomer cried. "I am Eomer of Rohan. A lady of this wood ventured into our realm and were are here to return her. She has been pursued by a score of Orcs yet that was not what wounded her. Her horse threw her across a small river. We slew the Orcs but when we found her she was already injured. We are supposed to find an Elf by the name of Haldir, or so Aragorn son of Arathorn told us."  
  
"Then indeed you have come to the right part of the woods," The Elf said, "I am Haldir. Where is the woman, I fear it may be Lady Naltariel who went missing after her morning ride four days ago."  
  
"So the Elf, Legolas, said it was." Eomer said regretfully as he drew his cape away so she could be seen. He heard the arrows around him grow tighter. "I did not wound her! But aided her as best I know how! I have a pin given to me by Lord Aragorn, who also goes by the name of Strider, it is said to vouch my tale."  
  
"Show me this pin, though I have little doubt of your tale now. Her wound was obviously not made by any weapon." Haldir said, cautiously stepping towards the Man. Eomer reached into his pocket and withdrew the pin, handing it to the Elf.  
  
Haldir hardly looked at it before handing it back. "It is of the pins Lady Galadriel gave Aragorn's company."  
  
Eomer looked down as the elf-maid shifted uncomfortably in his arms, the familiar whispering trees awaking her slightly. Her eyes came slightly open and she looked around. "Haldir?" She asked in confusion.  
  
"I am here, my love." Haldir said soothingly, taking Naltariel from Eomer's arms. Eomer stiffened slightly at the adornment but he did not know why. "Elye nar varna si."(You are safe now) Haldir let loose a sharp whistle and a few moments a horse rode to him.  
  
He lifted her up onto the horse then jumped up behind her. "Follow me." Haldir said quickly to the Men behind him, sending silent orders to the other Elves.  
  
The Riders of Rohan rode cautiously behind Eomer, still not trusting the hospitality of the Elves. They rode in silence, Haldir rode before them speaking soft words to Naltariel as they went.  
  
"Eomer of Rohan, you and I will ride ahead. They will want to speak with you before your army arrives." Haldir said. Then he spoke some elvish to an Elf nearby and they galloped on ahead.  
A while later they game upon the city, it glittered brightly in the setting sun and Eomer was overcome with awe. Never before had he seen a place of such beauty, not even the White City of Minas Tirith compared with the beauty of Lorien.  
  
Haldir dismounted his stallion and lifted Naltariel into his arms. Eomer followed suit and they soon stood side by side before a low stair leading into one of the great houses of Lorien. A bright light it seemed to emanate from behind two Elves that walked towards them down the stairs. Eomer lowered his eyes in reverence as they stood before him, their beauty great.  
  
Eomer considered the words of Gimli the Dwarve, but could not admit that the Lady of the Woods beauty was greater than her daughters. It was more mature but that did not appeal to him as much as the youth of Naltariel.  
  
"Much sleep we have lost worrying over the fate of Naltariel. Even my own wisdom could not foresee her future." The Lady said, indeed she looked very similar to her daughter, the same bright blue eyes and long flowing blonde hair in waves down her back.  
  
"Injury has come to her though, it seems." The Lord said, his grey eyes piecing Eomer as though a deer caught in the sights of an arrow.  
  
"My Lord, he has met with Aragorn upon his travels and he believed his tale. She was hunted by Orcs and in her haste Laurea stumbled and threw her across a small river. This Man, Eomer of Rohan, has tended to her wounds as best he knows how and has returned her to us now." Haldir said indifferently. "If indeed this is truth, we owe you, Eomer son of Eomund of Rohan, very much." The Lady said slowly, stepping towards him.  
  
Eomer bowed to her. "Any other would do the same as I in the same circumstances." He said humbly.  
  
"If you think that, you are a fool." The Lord said. "Her beauty is rare. Men of less valor would have taken her as their own, condemning her to a life I dare not think of. I name you Elf-friend, Eomer son of Eomund."  
  
"And we welcome you and your Men to rest this night in our hospitality." The Lady said. "Lord Celeborn and I, Lady Galadriel welcome you to the Golden Wood whenever you feel the need." The Lady said. "Haldir, take Naltariel to the healing pools."  
  
Haldir bowed slightly then carried the elf-maid away on a path leading to the left of where Eomer stood. Eomer was led off to the right by another elf-maid, and though by the standards of Men she was beyond fair, it was no comparison to the beauty of Lady Naltariel.  
Naltariel opened her eyes slowly, the ice cold water around her was seeping life back into her veins. She looked up into the tender face of Haldir, holding her so her head was above the water.  
  
"Haldir?" She whispered. He nodded slightly and she pulled herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I want you to teach me everything."  
  
"Everything?" Haldir asked confused.  
  
"Bow, sword, and knife. You wield all three, I want to learn." She said with stubbornly.  
  
"Naltariel, you are not a warrior. You are a maiden." Haldir said softly.  
  
"And how far did that get me? Had it not been for the Vala that came down to me I would have been slain!" She exclaimed.  
  
"Vala?" Haldir asked. "Describe him to me."  
  
"Well . . . he had deep brown eyes and shoulder length brown hair. Muscular. Strong yet kind. He saved me." She said slowly.  
  
"Naltariel, that was no Vala. That was a Man." Haldir said cautiously.  
  
She pushed away from him, as though he were the Man they had spoken of. Long years had Men been known to take Elven maidens for their own pleasure. It was the downfall of their beauty, that all would wish to possess.  
  
"No!" She cried. "That cannot be!" She looked down across her body but could find no wounds left to convict the Man.  
  
"Hush hush, Naltariel. You were lucky. I do not believe he injured you. You were found by one of the few noble Men left." Haldir said softly as he waded over to her and drew her back into his arms, whispering words of comfort to her. "He did not hurt you. If he had, he would not have made it as far as to the Lord and Lady."  
  
She shuddered and held tighter to Haldir, she had been warned since a child not to trust the likes of Men. Haldir held her half an arms length away and looked down into her glistening blue eyes.  
  
He took a deep breath. "Andave inye harya yetanna vanesselya."(Long years I have looked upon your beauty) He whispered, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. "Rucinnya ahyanello hinamma" (My feelings changed from our childhood)  
  
"Analya?" (Yours too) She whispered, turning slightly away with a blush.  
  
"Inye melme elye"(I love you) He whispered, lowering his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. The ice cold water around them seemed to warm as they were drawn into the kiss, neither ever wanting to stop. Haldir's fingers slipped through her wet tresses as he ran his hand up her back.  
  
"Haldir!" And angry voice yelled from below the arch that marked the entrance to the healing pools.  
  
They jerked away from each other, Lord Celeborn was standing stiffly beneath the arch of green vines. A look of rage was upon his face as none had ever seen before. Haldir slid away from her to the other side of the pool, a look of fear upon his face.  
  
"Get out of the pool, Haldir." Celeborn said angrily.  
  
"Ada! I began it." Naltariel cried, pushing away from the wall to stand beside Haldir.  
  
"No she didn't!" Haldir argued, giving her a stern look and crawling out of the ice cold water. Naltariel quickly followed him out.  
  
Celeborn's jaw was clamped shut in anger and they could see he was grounding his teeth. "Since you both lay claim to this, you will both come to my council. You have one hour to make yourselves acceptable." He turned on his heel and angrily stormed back down the walkway. Once out of view and hearing range Haldir angrily turned to her.  
  
"What are you thinking? It helps you none to get yourself into trouble!" He said angrily.  
  
"And what am I to do? Leave you to stand on your own?" She demanded stubbornly.  
  
Haldir sighed and took her arm, escorting her to her quarters to change into dryer clothes. They parted with a quick kiss. 


	3. 3 Escape

Disclaimer: Check Chapter One  
  
Reviews:  
  
JadeGoddess: He's mad cause he's being a pompous bastard. lol. He doens't think Haldir's good enough. . . but you find that out later this chapter.  
  
DeepNight: Thanks. I know Eomer stories are hard to find. That's why I decided to write one. . . kinda for the hell of it. lol.  
  
Sofasoap: Thanks for your review. I know it's not keeping with the book/movie. . . kinda. lol.  
  
MarieMJS: LoL, I was gonna read some of your stories and then . . . well . . . I realized I don't understand French. LOL. Sorry!  
Naltariel sighed as she brushed her fingers through her wavy tresses. She had already taken a quick bath and changed into a royal blue gown. Now she was stuck with the task of deciding what to do with her hair. It was tangled so she had to fight to get her comb through it. She tossed her comb down in frustration and reached into her drawer for her decorative hair net with little tiny sapphires imbedded into it.  
  
She put it in quickly, not really bothering if it looked perfect. Her mind wasn't truly with making herself "acceptable" as her father had ordered. She was too upset about being caught with Haldir like that. It was obvious to her that her father would place all the blame on him.  
  
A light knock sounded on her door and she hurried to answer it. Haldir stood before her dressed in travelling garb, a heavy pack was set at his feet.  
  
"What are you doing? Why are you dressed like that?" She asked in surprise, she had never seen his expression so sad.  
  
"You know as well as I what my punishment will be." He said quietly. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
She nodded quickly closed the door, following Haldir down the path leading to where they would hold their trial. She had never felt more depressed. She had known her father would be harsh, but Haldir was expecting exile. She would not be able to bear it if he was banished from the Golden Wood. It would be empty to her.  
  
Haldir dropped his pack outside the door and they entered into the small meeting room side by side. Both Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were seated before them, there were no other chairs.  
  
"I am appalled that you, Haldir, would take advantage of my daughter while she was in such a state." Celeborn said stiffly, they could tell his anger had not yet subsided.  
  
"I am fine, Father." Naltariel said, lifting her chin in defiance.  
  
"Naltariel, you are but a child in these matters. You have much time left to discover love, you must not rush it and give away your heart too soon." Galadriel said sternly.  
  
"It is not fair." She whispered, then with her resolve strengthening she stared her father directly in the eye. "If you exile Haldir, you exile me."  
  
Haldir looked at her in surprise, he had not expected her to stay true to all she had said, yet she had. She refused to leave him to stand alone, whatever the cost.  
  
"Indeed . . . Naltariel, you leave the morn after tomorrow for Rivendell. Lathun has asked for your hand." Her father said after a moment.  
  
Naltariel froze, even Galadriel looked in surprise to her husband. "No." Naltariel whispered shaking her head. "No! I wont!" She screamed taking a step back.  
  
"It's not worth screaming about, Naltariel. It's already been decided." Celeborn said coldly. "As for you, Haldir, I have not yet come up with your punishment. You are dismissed, both of you. Get some rest."  
  
Naltariel turned sharply and stalked out of the room, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Tears streamed freely down her face as she thought about her fate. Lathun? She had met him but twice before. Sure, he had been kind to her but she did not wish to wed with him. She did not love him, and he could not possibly love her.  
  
"Naltari, wait!" Haldir called after her, using her childhood nickname. He ran to catch up with her then grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. "I did not know. Lathun arrived here a few days ago, the same day you went missing. I did not know that was why he had come. I am so sorry."  
  
"It is not your fault." A harsh laugh escaped her lips. "Indeed, now I wish that whatever Man it was who saved me had not."  
  
"Don't say that! Such horrors you know naught of." Haldir said harshly.  
  
"Then do you truly see me as a child, Haldir? We are near the same age, yet you seem so much wiser than I. I am to follow in the wisdom of my mother, yet I cannot even prevent a marriage I do not wish." She said sadly turning away from him again and walking back towards her chambers.  
Naltariel woke suddenly as an idea of escape suddenly came to her mind. She looked out the window at the lightening sky and prayed she was not too late. She dressed quickly into a riding dress and heavy cloak and silently crept out through her door towards where the Men would be resting if they had not left yet.  
  
She ran silently through the waking woods, not a sound was make but the slight sound of her breath inhaling and exhaling. She stopped suddenly upon the edge of a clearing. A hundred Men all turned to look towards her, eyeing her her up and down. She froze, perhaps Haldir had been wrong. Perhaps they had harmed her, but he did not know it.  
  
Then her eyes fell on a Man standing on the far side of the clearing. Brown shoulder length hair could be seen clearly from under his high helm as he stood beside a big white stallion. Her saviour. She ran through the clearing, heedless of the many stares and calls at her until she was standing beside the Man.  
  
"Who are you?" She gasped, she had run a fair distance and, not being a warrior, as Haldir had said, wasn't as easy as it was for him.  
  
"My Lady," He said, bowing slightly. "I am Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of the Riddermark."  
  
"Eomer . . ." She said softly, looking cautiously over her shoulder.  
  
"Are you alright? Is someone following you?" He asked with worry.  
  
"No . . . I mean . . . I don't know. Would you help me?" She asked. Eomer nodded slightly, concern clearly written over his face. "I am to ride to Rivendell tomorrow morn to wed Lathun, a son of a lord of Rivendell. I do not wish it. Will you help me escape?"  
  
Eomer stared at her for a moment, not quite able to tell if she was healed yet from her head wound or not. "What of Haldir? Would he not help you?" He asked cautiously.  
  
"Haldir cannot help me, I fear his punishment may be worse than my own." She said quietly.  
  
"Punishment?" Eomer asked in surprise.  
  
"Our love is not condoned by my father. Will you help me?" She pleaded.  
  
"It would not do well for your people to find me spiriting you away after just returning you." Eomer said.  
  
"I go riding every morning. You could meet me somewhere beyond the outskirts of Lorien. There is a ring of stone from a tower long since collapsed close to an hour away from the eaves of the forest. My people rarely venture that far. Would you meet me there and allow me to ride with you? You must hurry with your decision, it is near to the time when I go to the stables." She explained.  
  
Eomer sighed, then thought of his sister Eowyn. She would flee with or without an escort if she was forced to marry, Eomer feared this elf-maid may do the same. "Alright. An hour south of here is the Old Watchtower. I know where it lies, I have been there before. Be careful."  
  
Naltariel nodded happily then turned and ran to the stables. Vaiwa, an young grey mare was already waiting for her. She nudged her happily as she gently stroked her neck.  
  
"Oh, My Lady, your not supposed to go out for your ride today without an escort. Not after last day when you went missing and all." The stable boy said as he came into the stable from outside.  
  
"Do you have parchment and ink in here?" She asked. The boy nodded and got her a sheet of paper and a small ink bottle and quill.  
  
She quickly wrote on the paper;  
  
Dear Haldir,  
  
The time has come, so it seems, for me to leave Lorien. But do not despair, I ride not to Rivendell. I ride with the Men who rescued me, Eomer has said he would escort me. We have yet to work out further details. You must not show this to anyone, I do not wish for my father to send the last of his army to Rohan to get me back. I will send you word when next I can.  
  
Love Naltariel.  
  
She quickly folded it and put it in an envelope the stable boy had brought her. She sealed it quickly with wax then handed it to the stable boy. "You will give this to Haldir when next you see him. I fear I wont be able to see him today."  
  
Then she turned from him and mounted Vaiwa. "But Lady! You have to wait for your escort! I'll surely get in loads of trouble if you go now. Your not supposed to ride alone." The boy cried.  
  
"You wont get in trouble, lad. My father knows I have a hard head and weather I am allowed or not, I am riding this morning alone. I desire quiet." She said stubbornly then motioned Vaiwa out of the stables and into a gallop towards the South, avoiding the main paths as much as she could.  
  
Luckily it was still early and few were awake. She made it out of the forest without any hassle then galloped for the Old Watchtower. The sun was warm enough for February, but she was glad she'd brought her heavy cloak. She had brought no other provisions, but she had often camped with her escort in the summer at a remote clearing not too far away. They had left some provisions behind last time they had camped and with any luck they would still be there.  
Eomer looked around nervously, wondering, not for the first time, why he had agreed to escort Lady Naltariel away from the will of her father. He sighed, they were nearly out of the forest and still no sign had been heard that their plot had been found out.  
  
He breathed finally in relief as they passed the eaves of the forest, his men positioning into formation and they started in a gallop. He had been named Elf-friend, but he did not feel like it. He looked back into the Golden Wood. It felt as though the eyes of the Lord and Lady were staring him down.  
  
When they finally reached the Old Watchtower he found her already waiting on the back of a proud grey mare. She had a small pack ladening the mare, it could not hold more than an extra blanket, perhaps a few sets of clothes and a tiny bit of food. She nodded to him as they approached.  
  
"I see you made it out of the woods without difficulty." She said, smiling warmly.  
  
"You seem in high spirits for one fleeing from her home." He noted as he came up the hill into the circle of fallen stones of the foundation of the Old Watchtower.  
  
"I have never felt so free. I have been sheltered from life all my two thousand years. I had not even seen an Orc until my unfortunate incident." She said happily.  
  
"Two thousand years?" Eomer asked in surprise.  
  
"Do you know nothing of the Elves?" She asked.  
  
"Very little." He replied.  
  
"I am immortal, I will continue to live on through all the ages. Although the time to sail across the Sea is coming soon and we will no longer walk upon Middle-Earth, we will still live on in the Elvenhome." She said, her mare shaking it's head impatiently.  
  
"Do any know of your departure?" Eomer asked.  
  
"Only Haldir. I left him a letter to be delivered today by the stable boy. He will not snoop in Haldir's mail." She said happily.  
  
"And Haldir? What will he do when he learns of your flight?" Eomer asked, the stern face of the Elf on their first meeting coming back to him.  
  
"He will do nothing, as I have bid him to do." Naltariel answered. "If we are going we must go now though. It will not be much longer until they notice I have not yet come back from my ride."  
  
Eomer turned to his men. "This is Lady Naltariel, she will be accompanying us to Edoras. You will treat her with the utmost respect while she is in our company. If I find any other treatment to her, you will be punished with death." He said, looking straight at his friend Hattim who had been eyeing her up.  
  
"What will happen when we reach Edoras?" She asked softly.  
  
"I will introduce you to my sister Eowyn and she will take care of you, if you do not mind dwelling in the lands of Men." Eomer replied.  
  
"I had not thought that far ahead, but unless I want to dwell in the realms of Dwarves, I have little choice." She said quietly.  
  
"I hope it will not be too hard on you, and I have a feeling you will enjoy Eowyn's company though. She is much like you." Eomer said, a small smile coming to his lips.  
  
"What is that to mean?" She asked quickly.  
  
"You will know when you meet her."Eomer said. "Come men! Ride!"  
  
They turned to the South and galloped away. After several hours the Riders of Rohan, who noted themselves as being horse masters, were struck in awe by the stamina of Vaiwa, the Elvish mare. They rested two hours after noon, at the Rohan border.  
  
Eomer went to her side to help her dismount but found she was already standing upon the ground, stretching a bit from the long ride. She stroked her hand over the mares flanks, and it was then that he noticed the mare had no saddle or rein. Just as Legolas the Elf had done upon Arod.  
  
"How do you ride with no saddle or rein?" He asked in wonder at her side.  
  
"With understanding of the beast. They must feel at peace with you and allow you to ride upon them, not be forced. The breaking of horses, as your people call it, brings me great sadness. The wills of those beasts were once strong." She said. "I raised both Vaiwa and Laurea from their birth. They've come to trust me, and will bear no other than Haldir."  
  
Eomer nodded. "I would like to learn this from you." He said quietly.  
  
"At a price." She replied, taking the packs off the mares back so it could run free for a while.  
  
"How high of a price?" He asked.  
  
"That depends on what you view is high." She answered.  
  
"What price? Gold? Silver? Jewels? What?" He asked.  
  
"No. No. None of that. You are a warrior, I wish to learn how to wield weapons. Particularly the bow, although there will be no greater teacher for that than an Elf, Haldir refused. 'You are not a warrior, you are a maiden.' He said. But I still wish to learn, I wish not to be caught in the same predicament twice." She answered.  
  
"You want to become a sheildmaiden!" He cried. "My sister will love you indeed! Your deal is fair and I accept. Shall we begin now?"  
  
"Can we? How long do your Men need to rest?" She asked in surprise.  
  
"Truly, we stopped for you, but they will enjoy the rest." Eomer laughed.  
  
Naltariel suddenly jerked her head upward, the cry of an eagle could be heard high up in the distance. She quickly drew the hood of her cloak over her head to hide her blond hair from the eyes above. "There is no time, my fathers scouts are already abroad. The search has begun."  
  
"What? How do you know?" Eomer asked as Naltariel quickly called Vaiwa back to her and put the light pack back on.  
  
"The eagles are above. They are my fathers favorite messengers." She said, leaping gently back upon her grey mare.  
  
"Let us continue then." He said. "Men! Lets go! We need to get further into our own land before we can rest."  
  
The Men grumbled a bit as they quickly packed up and mounted again. They galloped on for a few more hours, their horses becoming more and more fatigued. Naltariel's heart went out to them and she soon began to sing to ease their hearts.  
  
"Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!  
  
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!  
  
O light to us that wander here  
  
Amid the world of woven trees  
Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!  
  
Clear are the eyes and bright thy breath!  
  
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee  
  
In a far land beyond the Sea!  
O stars that in the Sunless Year  
  
With shining hand by her were sown,  
  
In windy fields now bright and clear  
  
We see your silver blossom blown!  
O Elberth! Gilthoniel!  
  
we still remember, we who dwell  
  
In this far land beneath the trees  
  
Thy starlight on the Wester Seas!"  
  
Her song eased the hearts of more than just the horses, the Men also began to look less exhausted and a few of them even began to smile.  
They rested briefly once later in the day for a quick meal then continued on their flight, stopping later that night as the sun began it's slow decent behind the mountains in the distance. Naltariel looked around her, the land was nearly barren. Rocks and brown grass was all she feared she would find, but then her eyes fell upon an old tree.  
  
It stood tall, but hunched as though the figure of an old man bent over his can. She smiled slightly and took the packs off Vaiwa, then she walked to the fires that had been lit and sat down, listening with awe at the stories they told while she ate her meal.  
  
The stories of Men were far different than the tales of the Elves she had heard since her childhood. Men were proud of the ferocity of their predecessors, while Elves wished nothing more than to continue on in peace. Men fought wars over small causes, Elves tried their best to avoid them.  
  
"Are you alright?" A voice asked from behind her. It was Eomer.  
  
"I am fine, why do you ask?" She replied, turning to him.  
  
"You seemed lost in thought, almost sad." He said, sitting next to her.  
  
"I was just musing the differences between your people and my own. It is funny that we made the Last Alliance despite of our differences." She said, staring into the flames of the fire.  
  
"And whys that?" Eomer asked.  
  
"Our people are so different! The tales of Men are of war and great bloody battles while the tales of my people are of the song of the river Nimrodel or the color of the leaves of Lorien in autumn." She said quietly.  
  
"We have fair tales too, but they are usually spoken in the company of women by women." Eomer replied.  
  
Naltariel nodded. "Tell me of Edoras." She said, leaning back on a rock behind her. "What is it like? And every detail, I have never before been in the realms of Men."  
  
"Edoras . . . I do not know how to describe it. It is perched upon a hill before the mountains. A dike and mighty wall surrounds it and in the midst of the houses there is one upon a green terrace which roof seems to be thatched with gold from a distance. That is the golden hall Meduseld, where I once dwelled. That is where you will go, for that is where my sister Eowyn resides." He described slowly, a smile was upon his face as he remembered the view of his home.  
  
"And what about you? Will you not return to your home?" She asked, noting that he never included himself going into the city.  
  
"It is a home for me no longer. I have been sent to exile, as have most of my men. My uncle, Theoden King, his mind has become poisoned from the words of Grima Wormtongue, his advisor. I believe Grima is a possession of Saruman the White, yet I cannot lay proof to my claim and it was my accusations and my want to rid the Orcs from our land that got me banished." He said sadly. "But I will send Marik in with you when we arrive, he has been kind and noble to you so you need not be afraid, and he will take you to Eowyn as I cannot."  
  
"It is a sad tale you tell. I remember days in my childhood when the White Wizard would come to the Golden Wood for celebrations. He was always a guest of honor in our house, he was once noble and true. The trees have whispered riddles for many years now, I finally understand them. They were speaking of the treachery of Saruman and desecration of the forests near Isengard." She said slowly,"It is indeed a sad tale."  
Time passed slowly and eventually many of the Men set out sleeping mats and blankets while others kept watch. Naltariel got up silently and shuffled through her packs, pulling out an old blanket she had reclaimed from the camping provisions. Then she quietly made her way to the tree she had seen earlier.  
  
She tossed her blanket into the branches above then laid her hands on the rough trunk of the tree and slowly circled it, her hands running across the bark. She pressed her ear up to it and heard it whispering words of rejoice at the presence of an Elf.  
  
"What are you doing?" A voice asked behind her. She whipped around to look at the intruder. He had black hair and stood, not as tall as Eomer, but stouter, with more muscle.  
  
"Going to bed." She said quickly.  
  
"You are too far from the fires. You cannot sleep here." He said kindly.  
  
"Who are you?" Naltariel asked suspiciously, her gaze piercing him as her mother always did.  
  
"My name is Marik, I am on the first watch." He answered.  
  
"You are Marik, the one who is to escort me to the city of Edoras." She smiled slightly. "Well, Master Marik, Elves sleep in trees. This is a tree," She said, gesturing to the gnarled tree beside her. "I plan to sleep in it."  
  
Marik broke into a smile. "Very well, My Lady. I will assign some guards to this area." He said and turned away, walking back to the camp.  
  
Naltariel shook her head and jumped lightly up into the branches of the tree, crawling to a comfortable crevice between two large branches. She pulled her blanket over her and snuggled in, the whispers of the tree lulling her to sleep in the pitch black of the night.  
  
TBC 


	4. 4 Just Another Day

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
Reviews:  
  
My Arwen: Yay, you reviewed this story too! Thanx for your review.  
  
Jade Goddess: Galadriel thinks perhaps there is a reason for Celeborns decision and that there might actually be truth to it. Plus, Celeborn is supposed to be wise and all knowing and crap so yeah. She doesn't get pissy until later.  
  
Aramer: Your just gonna have to read to find out.  
  
Sofasoap: Naltariel has been sheltered from most of the world because Galadriel and Celeborn don't want her to suffer the same fate as their first daughter Celebrian. So she's basically been shut away in Lorien, not travelling anywhere without a well armed escort. That's why she seems so immature.  
  
AN: There's an important note at the end of this chapter. Please read it and give me your thoughts.  
She awoke suddenly, the tree was speaking urgently of foul elves and tree cutters. She froze and listened hard but could hear no sound. She thought of just ignoring the trees warning when she remembered their urgent calls last time.  
  
She dropped silently to the ground and pressed her ear to the ground. Sure enough, heavy steps could be heard off to the West. She stood and looked around helplessly wondering what to do when a figure moved quietly in the dark not too far off from where she stood.  
  
She froze, thinking for a moment that the Orcs had been closer than she had thought when he came cautiously towards her. "Are you alright? Did you fall from the tree?" It was a Man. She breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Orcs are moving silently through the night to the West. They are coming this way." She said quickly, her keen eyes looking off to the West to see if she could find the Orcs.  
  
"How do you know?" He asked suspiciously.  
  
"The trees and the earth told me. Now go! Sound an alarm or whatever your people must do. They seem to be maybe a twenty minute march away at the pace they were going." She pleaded.  
  
The man ran off to the rest of the camp leaving her alone in the dark. She reached for the tree and leapt up into its branches, huddling silently in the warmth of her blanket. She shivered, but not from cold as she looked out to the West. She could see the slow moving masses of the Orcs. She could not tell their number in that light, but there seemed like many. The whinny of a horse at the foot of the tree startled her.  
  
"Lady Naltariel? Are you up there." It was Eomer.  
  
"Yes. I can see them now. It looks like a large number." She whispered.  
  
"Come down. My men are prepared, now all we need to do is flee. I do not want you injured in this battle." Eomer whispered.  
  
"Flee?" She asked, coming down onto the lower branches wrapped in her blanket.  
  
"Me and you. I'm afraid I could not find your Vaiwa so we will have to ride double. Come quickly now. They are near." Eomer said, his arms reaching up to take her from the tree. He placed her gently int he saddle before her and they galloped away, both south and east of where the rest of his men were.  
  
Naltariel shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, not used to it as they fled. "Should you not be fighting with your men?"  
  
Eomer shook his head. "It wont be too hard of a battle. The Orcs are unmounted and weary and still only half our number."Naltariel nodded and leaned back against Eomers chest listening to the dull thud of the horses hoofs across the ground.  
Haldir stood dumbfounded as he read the note over again and again. Do not despair, I ride not to Rivendell. I ride with the Men who rescued me, we have yet to work out further details. You must not show this to anyone. I will send you word when next I can. He read. Love Naltariel.  
  
She rode with Men! His face paled and his heart was filled with worry and foreboding. Few Men could be trusted with the beauty of the Elves, Eomer was but one of a hundred Men she would be in the company of. They would not all be of the young lords valour.  
  
Lorien was in an uproar again at the second disappearance of their princess. Many were cursing the Men, accusing them of kidnapping her from her home once more. Lord Celeborn had sent out all of his messengers, both eagles and deer, in all directions in search of her yet none had come back with any assertion of her whereabouts. Lady Galadriel had closed herself away in her chambers when she heard the news and she had not yet come out.  
  
"Haldir!" Celeborns angry voice called from the other side of the door. He had yet to be punished for his "blatant advantage taking" of Naltariel. He stuffed the letter into his pocket and quickly went to open the door for the Lord of the Golden Wood.  
  
"My Lord." Haldir said, bowing slightly.  
  
"Gather our warriors. An eagle saw her riding with the Men of Rohan. I unname him Elf-friend and curse his name!" The Lord yelled. "The audacity they have to kidnap my daughter after returning her!"  
  
Haldir stayed silent for a moment before carefully choosing his words. "My Lord . . . perhaps she wished to go with the Men of Rohan. She was . . . very upset when you announced her marriage."  
  
"You say she would go with Men willingly?" Celeborn demanded. "We have taught her better than that!"  
  
"She told me she mistook one of the Men, Eomer, as a Vala. She . . . she trusts him." Haldir said quietly.  
  
"A Man for a Vala!" Celeborn cried in disbelief. "Then he is taking advantage over her even more than you! Gather the warriors."  
  
"I wont." Haldir said bravely. Celeborn turned his cold grey eyes on him. "I believe she is seeking happiness, and I believe Eomer will protect her and let her go should she wish it. To raise arms against Rohan will do nothing but gain the mockery of Mordor. Which is more important, My Lord, the survival of all that is fair in Middle-Earth or binding your daughter unhappily to Lord Lathun?"  
  
Celeborn glared at him and stormed from the room, leaving Haldir standing in silence. He let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding and plopped down onto his bed. Moments later a light knock sounded on his door.  
  
"Who is it?" He asked tiredly.  
  
"Your brothers." Two voices said in unison.  
  
"It's unlocked." Haldir called and moments later both Orophin and Rumil stood before him with worried expressions.  
  
"Elye yeta rucima." (You look terrible) Rumil said softly.  
  
"You would too." Haldir muttered laying back on the bed.  
  
"Has she sent you word?" Orophin asked, Haldir stayed silent. "What did she say?"  
  
"Autas mas selmarya" (She left by her own will) He muttered. The two brothers sighed and leaned against the wall.  
  
"Ar?" (And) Rumil asked. "Nar elye ana lelya anarya?" (Are you to go to her)  
  
Haldir shook his head. The brothers looked sadly upon Haldir, they had known of his feelings for Naltariel for many years now. They had been the first he had told of it and had also suspected for many years before Haldir confessed. They had all grown up together as children, Haldir was older than her by some years, but Rumil and Orophin were the same age as she. Now they didn't know when she was to return or if she was alright and they all worried deeply for her.  
Naltariel suddenly awoke, all was silent around her except for the soft sound of breathing close to her ear. She was laying in Eomer's arms and they had both apparently fallen asleep. She shifted slightly, they were in a cave and she could feel no life around her, it made her uncomfortable. She longed to get up but his arms were wrapped tight around her and she would not be able to without waking him.  
  
She sighed and relaxed, she would have to wait to go look at the stars above. Though uncomfortable within the cave, she felt altogether safe in the arms of this Man. She mused silently on this when she suddenly she saw the angry grey eyes of her father in her mind.  
  
"War will be upon them if they do not return you." He said angrily.  
  
"War is upon them already. The forces of Lorien would be but a drop in a lake. Would you risk the lives of your soldiers to gain the laughter of Mordor? Or do you openly join the Dark Lords side?" She demanded. "I am staying where I am."  
  
The voice of her father was silent after that and she smiled slightly. Perhaps that would be the worst she would have to face from him. She would not return to be sent away to Rivendell to wed Lathun.  
  
An hour later Eomer awoke he smiled sleepily at her. "How did you sleep?" He asked, letting go of her.  
  
"Not well." She answered. "No life filters through this rock, it makes me uneasy." He apologized quietly as he stretched. "My father knows where I am." She revealed.  
  
He stared at her in shock for a moment. "And what are his plans? Is he sending an army to recapture you?" He asked quickly.  
  
"I do not believe so." She answered."He is angry, but I don't think he will attack an enemy of the Dark Lord. Mordor would laugh and his allies would grow few."  
The rest of the Men arrived an hour later, bringing Vaiwa with them, they were exhausted but they had lost none in the fray, though a few were injured. The slid from the back of their horses and rolled out their sleeping mats without even asking consent from Eomer. If he wished to ride on he could, but he would be alone.  
  
Fortunately Eomer did not plan on riding on, he congratulated his men each personally. It took him quite some time for as he congratulated he also spoke with and listened to the tales of the battle.  
  
Naltariel sat silently near a tree, her back resting against it and her eyes were closed, listening to the song of the gentle breeze. A bird chirped above her head and she looked up to see of what breed. It was a sparrow, her own favorite messengers. An idea came to her and she unclasped the pendant around her neck. Estelara glittered brightly in the light of the sun. The Evenstar was silver and diamond, Estelara was of the same design but of gold and amber.  
  
The sparrow came and perched on the ground next to her without conflict and waited patiently. She carefully wrapped the chain around the birds neck, "Haldir o Lothlorien." She whispered. The bird cocked it's head to the side and gave a little chirp then lifted its small body into the air and flew away north.  
  
"What was that?" She heard Eomer ask from behind her.  
  
"A gift for Haldir." She said quietly.  
  
"Will he wear it?" Eomer asked in doubt.  
  
"You find it odd that Elven men wear jewels?" She asked.  
  
"Well, it was a rather feminine jewel." He conceded.  
  
Naltariel laughed lightly. "It is a token of love." She said. "There are only two jewels like the one have I sent to Haldir. The Evenstar is around Aragorn son of Arathorn's neck and the Estelara will soon be around Haldir's."  
  
"What are they? And what does Estelara mean?" Eomer asked quietly, sitting down next to her.  
  
"They are . . . perhaps enchanted jewels. No one truly knows what power they posses though. Arwen Undomiel is the Evenstar of our people, she gave the pendant to Aragorn when he set out from Rivendell. Estelara, means Morning Hope in my tongue. She is the evening and I am the morn, as my mother was before me." Naltariel explained slowly, her mind flowing back to the beauty of Lorien and Rivendell.  
  
"Tis a romantic tale." Eomer nodded.  
  
Naltariel laughed sadly, "Tis more of a tragic tale in the case of Arwen."  
  
"Why?" He asked, looking at her with concern.  
  
"The time of the Elves is long over. We are seeking the Grey Havens now to sail west across the Sea. She will have to decide whether to part with her people or with her lover. It will not be an easy choice." Naltariel said sadly.  
  
"Could she not wait out his life then sail?" He asked.  
  
"It is not that easy." Naltariel murmured. "Aragorn is of the blood of Numenor, he will live thrice the time of normal Men. By the time he passes the ships will all be gone and none will stay behind to bear her finally to the Elvenhome."  
  
"It would be a arduous task indeed, to choose between love and family." Eomer replied.  
  
TBC  
  
AN: Okay, I am asking for your votes. I've run into a bit of writers block. But, I have a few more chapters already written which I could upload. But I don't want to just leave you where it is cause it's kinda like a huge cliffie where I'm stuck and even I don't know what's going to happen next. So heres the question, do you guys want me to upload until where I'm stuck or to leave is here until I've written more. Answer in your reviews! 


	5. 5 Visitors in the Night

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.  
  
Reviews:  
  
blue jeans baby- yeah, but things might get better later. I dont know. I haven't figured it out yet.  
  
Aramer- yeah. . . I think this is a sad story. lol, I'm not quite sure tho. . .  
  
TigerLily: you were right! It did. . . . kinda! lol. I am 47% writers block free.  
  
My Arwen: What would Eomer have said to Naltariel to stop her from sending to jewel to Haldir? She has no notion of his feelings and he has no right to utter them when she obviously loves another.  
  
Cara: Thanx for your review! :D  
  
Jade Goddess: The fate of Celebrian may be brought into it later, but for the moment it doesn't really fit anywhere.  
  
Sofasoap: Thanx for the review! :D  
  
AN: I am so so so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry for making you all wait so long. I just ran into some MAJOR writers block and plus I suddenly became really really unmotivated. Sorry ^-^  
  
Three more days of riding passed without incident and his Men had come to accept her presence completely. They had come to call her "Our Naltariel" as formality had begun to slip away. They still remained courteous to her and, whether because of his threat or that they truly did not wish it, none had tried to harm her nor take advantage of her.  
  
"Naltariel!" Marik called from the fire one night. "Come our Naltariel, tell us a tale of your people."  
  
She smiled and she came and sat by his side and told all assembled a story of an Elf named Nimrodel and of her lover, Amroth, waiting at the Grey Havens for her to come to him. But she never arrived at the Havens and her lover dove from the ship that was bearing him and tried to swim for the shore to wait for her but drown in the attempt.  
  
"What happened to Nimrodel the fair, none know. Some say she perished and some say she still wanders the Misty Mountains, where she was last seen, singing sad songs of times long past. The River Nimrodel that flows from the mountains and meets with the River Celebrant carries her song if you listen near it's shores." She finished her tale.  
  
"A sad time it will be when the Elves are gone from Middle-Earth. They carry such tales as we have never heard before. They will be lost when the Elves leave." Said one Man from the other side of the fire, his name was Rira and he seemed to be one of the Men most interested in the ways of the Elves.  
  
"Perhaps, but then you may not even realize it when we are all gone." She murmured her eyes upon the fire. To anyone else who's eyes were upon the flames they seemed to form the image of a beautiful wood of golden flame. A few recognized it as the Golden Wood.  
  
A heavy silence came upon those sitting by the fire as they were all deep in thought. At length Naltariel began to sing the song of Elbereth and Gilthoniel but this time in the elvish tongue.  
  
"A! Elbereth Gilthoniel  
  
silivren penna miriel  
  
o menel aglar elenath,  
  
Na-chaered palan-diriel  
  
o galadhremmin ennorath,  
  
Fanuilos, le linnathon  
  
nef aear, si nef aeron!"  
  
"Who is that?" A Man asked, she did not yet know his name.  
  
"The Lord and Lady beyond the Sea." She murmured. "One day I will gaze upon the beauty of the Elves of old."  
  
Eomer watched from a distance as Naltariel slept on a sleeping mat on the ground before the fire, there had been no trees around for her to climb up into. Sadness came to his heart as he thought that in only two more days he would be parted from her. They would reach Edoras and she would go with Marik into the city to see Eowyn and he would see her no more.  
  
They had taught each other briefly what the other had wanted to learn, horse taming and weapons wielding. There had been many jests at both of them, when he had tried to mount a horse with no saddle and it had bolted, leaving him on his behind on the ground. When she had tried to lift his sword and found it was too heavy for her. They had had to go through all the swords of the Riders of Rohan until they finally found that one had an elvish blade it had taken after a bad run in with a troll farther to the north. He had released it gladly into the care of Naltariel, insisting it was cursed and that he was trying to sell it.  
  
She now wore it sheathed at her side, not bothering that she could not truly wield it with skill yet. He sighed as he gazed at her still form. Such beauty the Elves had, he thought. It truly was a shame that they would soon be leaving these shores.  
  
Suddenly a loud bird call came from his right, answered by another further away on his left. A firm hand clamped over his mouth and dragged him away from the light of the fire and passed the watch of the sentries.  
  
The face of Haldir was suddenly angrily before him. "If I find you have caused her any harm I will kill you myself." He hissed. Eomer saw the Estelara hanging from his throat with some jealousy.  
  
He was gagged and his wrists were bound and he was left in the darkness under the watch of another Elf. He watched in amazement as Haldir crept silently back towards the camp, passing no more than six feet away from one of the men on watch and continued on to silently take Naltariel from where she was.  
  
She was taken, as he was but gentler, from the camp into the darkness beyond. He could still slightly see the form of Haldir, and he did not miss when Naltariel came awake and threw her arms around him in a tight embrace.  
  
"Stop staring upon them in awe, Edain, they were meant to be together." The Elf watching him said quietly. Eomer turned to take his first look upon the second Elf and found, in surprise, that they looked almost the same as Haldir but of a little slightly of height and build. He ignored the Elf's orders and continued to watch them.  
  
They came towards him, moving as one as they shared the same cloak. Naltariel knelt at his side and, gesturing him to be quiet, ungagged him and unbound his wrists. She drew the second Elf into a friendly hug.  
  
"Ta tyaro honnya mane ana cen elye, Orophin." (It does my heart good to see you) She whispered sitting back in the grass. Haldir's arm wrapped around her protectively, he had not missed the affectionate gaze the Man had been giving Naltariel.  
  
"She says you have treated her well enough." Haldir said begrudgingly.  
  
Eomer nodded. "As have all the men I travel with."  
  
"Haldir, what did you say to get leave to travel this far? And with Orophin and Rumil too?" Naltariel asked as a third Elf came up to him, the exact same image as the second one Eomer had see except for a slightly more muscular build.  
  
"He knows you have left with these Men." He murmured. "I said I was going to get you back, but without sending the armies of Lorien forth to do so, which is what he wished." He said, eyeing Eomer fiercely.  
  
"I wont go! You would have him send me away to wed Lathun?" She asked in a harsh whisper.  
  
"I do not believe that was truly the reason for Lord Lathun's visit to Lorien. I think he was just trying to scare you. He was angry, he still is actually." Orophin said quietly.  
  
"How many more Elves are lurking around my men?" Eomer asked suspiciously, his eyes upon the circle the firelight made.  
  
"There were only the three of us." The third Elf, Rumil, he supposed, answered.  
  
Suddenly cries came from the camp. They had discovered Naltariel was missing, it would not be long until they found him missing as well and assumed what any mortal man would.  
  
"The reputation of the Lady seems to be at stake." Eomer said softly. Haldir glared, loathing to let her go so soon. Cries again sounded from the camp, but they were in alarm rather than jest.  
  
"There's been a struggle! The marks leave away from the camp!" One man called and soon more than fifty of the men were following the trail.  
  
"We might as well stand up." Naltariel whispered, begining to get to her feet. Haldir pulled her back down.  
  
"Not a word of us, Eomer." He hissed gesturing to his bow. Then Haldir and Naltariel slipped away to his right and Orophin and Rumil disappeared from his left.  
  
They found Eomer moments later, staring off to his right in a daze. "My Lord! Are you alright? What happened?" They asked quickly, their torches lit as some stood looking for the person who had taken their Lord captive while others looked for injury upon him.  
  
"I'm fine." Eomer said standing up and beginning to walk back towards the camp.  
  
"My Lord! Our Naltariel is missing!" They cried. Eomer paused for a moment, looking sadly to the ground, then continued walking towards the camp without a reply. He knew Naltariel was gone. He doubted he would ever see her again now. She had Haldir and those other two Elves whom she seemed to know well. She would go with them.  
  
Naltariel crawled quietly with Haldir through the tall grass until they reached a large boulder not too far away. They could still hear the commotion of the Men as they wondered what had happened to Eomer and who had taken him and where was "Our Naltariel".  
  
Haldir held her close, his face buried in her neck. "I've missed you." He whispered.  
  
She looked at him and smiled, her eyes being drawn to the Estelara hanging from his throat. "You got it." She whispered, her hand gently caressing the gold and amber.  
  
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I thought, when the sparrow brought it to me, that you had been injured or lost. I gathered Orophin and Rumil as quickly as I could and convinced your father to let me and my brothers go search for you on our own, without armed forces.  
  
"I'd feared the worst. We traveled three days both day an night, barely taking any rest or food to reach you in time." He murmured and placed a gentle kiss on her neck.  
  
She brought her lips to his and pulled herself closer to him so that she was truly sitting in his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close as he passionately returned the kiss. His lips traveled across her cheek and down onto her neck, he grunted softly as he long hair fell over her shoulder and shrouded him.  
  
"Haldir?" She whispered quietly.  
  
"Mmm?" Was all she got in reply.  
  
She smiled. "I love you."  
  
He pulled back and looked deep into intense blue eyes. "I love you too, melda" (Beloved) He whispered and kissed her again on the lips.  
  
They stayed together in each others arms for a long time, but after a few hours Naltariel suddenly sat up. "Where are Rumil and Orophin? What are they doing?" She asked in shock.  
  
Haldir laughed. "Who knows!" He said happily, then pulled her back down so her head rested on his shoulder.  
  
That was how they were found the next morning, sleeping peacefully in each others arms. Half the Men were relieved, the other half were furious. Who was this Elf that decided he could just come in and take away their Naltariel without asking their permission.  
  
Naltariel opened one eyes at the sound of whispering voices, above her stood half the Riders of Rohan. She sat up in shock, Haldir was still here! They Men were discussing what to do with him, whether kill him or tie him up and leave him where he was. She saw out of the corner of her eye, Haldir's hand moving slowly toward his belt where hit dagger was.  
  
She quickly pressed her hand down on it. "Haldir!" She cried.  
  
His eyes opened angrily and he sat up, his arm gong automatically around Naltariel. "Yes?" He asked quietly.  
  
"Enye avan harna te." (You will not harm them) She said commandingly and got to her feet. He sighed and tossed his dagger to the ground before the assembled men in a proposition of peace. He Men laughed in his face.  
  
"Firi." (Mortal Men) Haldir snickered getting to his feet. He found the tip of a sword, wielded by a dark haired man, at his throat. Haldir looked straight into the Mans eyes.  
  
"Marik!" Naltariel cried out in alarm. An arrow suddenly came out of no where and pierced Mariks sword arm. The blade fell to the ground with a dull thud.  
  
"Orophin! Rumil! No more!" She cried to the boulders surrounding them. The Elves could be any of them with their cloaks, she knew or they could be hiding behind boulders. The cloaks of Lorien did well to conceal their wearers.  
  
"Marik, are you alright?" She asked, gently tugging the arrow from his arm. The Man cried out in pain, Haldir smirked.  
  
"What's going on, Naltariel?" Eomer demanded, drawn to the commotion. His eyes fell instantly on the wound in his best friends arm and the arrow lying on the ground beneath him. He turned angrily upon Haldir.  
  
"Stop stop!" Naltariel cried before a fight could begin and more blood was shed. "This is Haldir, my meldo! (Lover) My melda! (Beloved) My mate! My friend! You would not deny me him would you?" She demanded of the Men before her as she tore a strip from her cloak and bandaged Mariks wound.  
  
There was some murmuring among the Men as they contemplated this. Haldir stepped up to Marik and gave him a small leaf from his pack. "Put this on your tongue." He ordered. Marik eyed him suspiciously. "The arrows of mine and my brothers quivers are laden with a sweet poison. Unless you wish to fall into a deep sleep and never again awake you had best do as I say."  
  
Marik reluctantly took the leaf and put it on his tongue, the repugnant taste of it moving slowly down his throat. Naltariel laughed quietly at the face he made and he mock glared at her.  
  
"Now, as all is well, would you leave me a moment to say my goodbyes?" She asked sweetly. The Men nodded and returned to the camp, leaving Haldir and Naltariel alone.  
  
"Goodbye?" Haldir demanded. "I travel three days straight for you and now all you have to say is goodbye?"  
  
"Haldir! I cannot return to Lorien! My father is furious with me! I dare not risk him truly sending me to Rivendell to wed one I did not love. It would be torture beyond that of which I could bare." Naltariel pleaded. "You can come to me whenever you may to Edoras to see me."  
  
"Do you not miss the Golden Wood?" Haldir demanded. "And what of your mother? Lady Galadriel had still not left her chambers when I'd left. It would be a week now since she first heard of the news of your disappearance and locked herself away!"  
  
"Then take word of me to her! Assure her I am safe and well!" She cried.  
  
"How can I assure her that if I am not sure of it myself?" Haldir cried.  
  
"What do you mean?" Naltariel asked quietly after a moment.  
  
"Are you safe? Are you well? These Men would have killed me this morn for being to near you, had it not been for Orophin's arrow. How can that be well and safe? What happens when you get to Edoras and they will not let you leave?" He demanded. "What happens when they condemn you to a life of slavery and abuse? The fate your fathers fears so much. He does not worry without reason, and his anger is driven on more by fear than rage."  
  
"They would not do that to me." Naltariel said stubbornly, shaking her head.  
  
"How do you know?" Haldir hissed. "You have only known these Men for a week!"  
  
Naltariel turned her back on him. "Go back to Lorien, Haldir. Tell my father whatever you wish, but tell my mother that I am fine and quite safe."  
  
Eomer watched as Haldir angrily stormed away from Naltariel. He whistled and three horses ran towards him from far in the distance. He watched in awe as two of the boulders suddenly transformed into Elves, their long grey cloaks sweeping around behind them.  
  
They mounted the horses, Haldir rode to Naltariel's and said something to her. She nodded stiffly then all three horses galloped away back towards the North. She watched them go for a while then turned back to the camp. As she came closer he could see tears sparkling in her eyes about to fall. He ran to her side.  
  
"Are you alright?" He asked quietly. She nodded slightly and called for Vaiwa.  
  
AN: YAY! I have FINALLY uploaded again and perhaps have even gotten over my writers block. I dunno, we'll just have to see. Thanx for reading. 


	6. 6 Edoras' Welcome

AN: Okay, here's the next chapter! :D Aren't you all so happy? I really hope you haven't abanndoned this story because yeah, there's lots of chapters still on the way and it would really suck if no one reviewed them.  
  
Thanx for all of your reviews! They mean a ton to me. :D Okay, On with the show, this is it! LOL  
  
For the next two days she withdrew from her companions, not even Eomer could get more than a slight word from her. There was no singing and no tales around the fire at night, laughter seemed to have died with Naltariel's mood. It effected everyone in the company for their seemed no cheer left in the worlds at all.  
  
But as they neared Edoras at the setting of the sun on the second day her mood rose. She smiled brightly as she looked upon the city upon the hill. Eomer had not lied, the rood of the Meduseld truly did look as though thatched with gold, but it's beauty was beyond what she had expected.  
  
"You description truly did not give it justice, Eomer!" She cried with a laugh as she stilled her mare and gazed upon it's beauty.  
  
Eomer looked over to her in surprise, after two days with barely a word her laughter did more good for his Men, than rain to fields after a drought. He rode to her side a smile upon his face.  
  
"I am glad you approve!" He said happily. "But I fear I can ride no further than this. Marik will take you the rest of the way."  
  
A loud neigh came from off to her right and she looked to find her own white mare trotting as fast as she could, with a slight limp, towards her. Vaiwa gave a loud neigh and started towards the other mare. It was Laurea, Vaiwa's own sister. Naltariel had raised them since they had been born to their mother Nenu, who had also been one of Naltariel's mounts before her death.  
  
"Laurea!" She cried. "Inye harya recuene eressea oa ho contarlya!" (I have felt lonely away from your stride) The white mare shook it's mane happily as it came up to her side. Naltariel slid from the back of Vaiwa to inspect the injured ankle of Laurea. "Were we in Lorien, I would take you to Nimrodel to soak your feet and ease your pain."  
  
"Naltariel! Come, they will not allow you into the city once it has become too dark." Marik called.  
  
She nodded and leapt up onto Vaiwa's back again. They trotted towards the city at a slow enough pace for Laurea to keep up. They reached the gates some minutes later, Naltariel's golden hair shining in the light or the sentry torches.  
  
"Who is this?" A sentry demanded, all formality and courtesy forgotten with the setting of the sun.  
  
"I am Marik son of Marun." Marik called. "With me is Lady Naltariel, Princess of Lorien."  
  
"A sorceress! A witch!" The sentry cried in alarm. "The Golden Wood is evil place. What spell has she got you under?"  
  
"No spell, My Lord. I am fleeing the Golden Wood as you Men do." Naltariel called.  
  
"And what might make you flee your home, witch?" A second sentry called.  
  
"An arranged marriage. Now, are you going to let us in or are we going to stand here calling to each other all night?" She snapped.  
  
The sentries were quiet for a moment then the gate opened. "You will meet with Theoden King as soon as your horses are stabled." One called arrogantly.  
  
Marik shook his head angrily and led Naltariel into the city, Laurea followed without command. The streets were dark and what few people they did see on their way to the stable, hurried inside when they saw their arrival.  
  
Marik handed his big brown stallion over to one of the stable boys and lifted Naltariel off the back of Vaiwa. Two more stable hands came out to bring in the elvish mares, they stared in surprise when there was no saddle or rein to remove.  
  
"These are elvish mares. No saddle or rein is to be put upon them, nor are they to be attempted to be ridden." Naltariel ordered them quietly. "Laurea, the white one, has an injured leg. If you could give her something to ease the pain I would appreciate it."  
  
Marik quietly led her away from the stables, anxiety written upon his face. "Theoden King has become corrupted by Saruman. I fear he may use you to work an alliance proposal to your people."  
  
"Weak would my father be if he accepted." Naltariel murmured.  
  
*  
  
"My Lord." Naltariel said, curtsying before the King. He was old she noted from his appearance, old and confused. She did not like the look of the Man sitting at his side whispering words into his ear, there was something about him and his gaze that made her uneasy. He was the King's advisor, obviously from where he sat.  
  
"Why does the witch of the Golden Wood send forth her kin to Edoras?" The King said slowly, a mere puppet of his advisor for her keen elvish ears had heard the counsellor speak the same question a moment before.  
  
She pressed her gaze to the Kings. "Ask your own questions, My Lord." She spoke within his mind.  
  
"That is what I wish to know." The King replied.  
  
"My mother, not a witch, but the Queen of Elves, did not send me. I am fleeing from my fathers arranged marriage for me." Naltariel said tightly aloud, she despised it when people thought ill of her sweet mother.  
  
The advisor looked upon her for a moment before turning back to lean and whisper words into the ear of the King. Naltariel gazed hard at the King. "Be of your own mind." She said within his head again.  
  
The King stayed silent as she exerted her will upon him, trying to free him from the prison his advisor had locked him in. Suddenly the face before her eyes was not of Theoden King of the Mark, but of Saruman the White. She gasped, the will of the White Wizard too great for her. "Haryaro elye."(He possesses you) She whispered.  
  
"You may stay here . . . for a while." The advisor said loudly, standing and walking down the stairs from the small platform the thrown was on. She turned her head away in disgust at the lustful look has bestowed upon her as though she had been slapped.  
  
"Thank you, Theoden King of Rohan." She said spitefully and curtsied to the King, ignoring the advisor nearly beside her.  
  
Marik offered to her his arm and escorted her out of the thrown room quickly, not liking the look the advisor had been giving her any more than she had. "Who is that Man?" She asked after they were away from Meduseld.  
  
"The King's sole advisor, Grima Wormtongue." Marik answered harshly.  
  
"Wormtongue is right! Wriggled himself into a very desirable spot, I must say." She muttered.  
  
"So you see the corruption already?" He asked, leading her around to the back of the Golden Hall.  
  
"See it? It's hard to miss! No advisor should dictate the speech of a King!" She hissed. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Lady Eowyn's chambers are near the back of Meduseld, I am hoping we can get to her without another confrontation with the Worm." Marik said quickly, leading her to a door at the back. There was only one guard standing before it.  
  
"Move aside." Marik ordered him. "We go to see Lady Eowyn, we are expected." He said, even though they were not. The guard nodded sleepily and let them pass.  
  
Moments later they came to a door, Marik knocked softly on it. The shuffling sounds of feet could be heard to Naltariel's ears from the other side of the door. It opened seconds later, a woman with long pale blond hair hanging down her back and a cold expression on her face glared at them, a dagger lifted in her hand.  
  
"Marik!" She cried, dropping the dagger and throwing herself into the Mans arms. "Where have you been? How fares Eomer?" She asked quickly, pulling him inside the room. It was then that she noticed Naltariel, she paused. "Hello."  
  
"Hello. Eomer has told me much about you." Naltariel said politely, for it was true. She had eventually weaseled out information about his beloved sister during their training.  
  
"You have spoken with Eomer?" She asked hesitantly.  
  
"Lady Eowyn, this is Lady Naltariel of Lorien. Eomer has brought her to you in hopes that you would look after her until she decides to return to her home. She is fleeing from an arranged marriage." Marik explained.  
  
Eowyn smiled. "Of course, come in." She gestured for the Elf to enter her chambers and both Naltariel and Marik were lead to a small table. They all sat. "How does Eomer fare?"  
  
*  
  
After several hours of Marik and Eowyn speaking in soft voices about the tidings of Eomer, Eowyn turned to Naltariel. "I note you carry a sword by your side, are you a sheildmaiden?"  
  
Both Marik and Naltariel began to laugh remembering all the incidents from her training, indeed once she had almost taking off Marik's head. "Your brother was instructing me. I'm afraid my education was brought to swift end after some . . . accidents though."  
  
"You nearly took off my head! Not to mention Eomer's arm!" Marik exclaimed.  
  
"I didn't say I was very good at it." Naltariel said indignantly. "And besides, it's not like I was intentionally trying to harm you." She laughed, but it was cut short when she saw an eagle perched on the window sill of Eowyn's room.  
  
She silently rose, going swiftly to the window. The bird have a little cry then jumped up onto her shoulder, perching lightly there, mindful of it's talons so they did not mar her skin. "Do you have papyrus and ink?" She asked Eowyn.  
  
The other woman nodded and quickly returned with a sheet of white paper and an ink jar and quill. She set them upon the table and began to write in elvish:  
  
Father;  
  
I will not return to Lorien until I am sure your plans are not to wed me off to Lord Lathun and that you accept and condone mine and Haldir's love for one another. He now wears Estelara around his throat as a token of my love for him. This is where I plan on staying for a while, in Edoras. You can send another messenger of this sort to me when you have come to terms with this and are willing to accept what I have said.  
  
Love Naltariel  
  
PS. Tell Mother I love her and ask her to come out of her chambers if she hasn't already. She need not grieve me, I have come to no harm.  
  
She rolled up the letter and tore three strands of hair from her head. She quickly braided them together, then tied the note to the eagles ankle with the braid. The eagle cried out then lifted itself into the air and flew from the room with great speed back towards Lorien.  
  
"And that was?" Eowyn asked.  
  
"A messenger of my father." Naltariel replied. "The night is old and morning is not far."  
  
"Your right, I cannot believe I have been so rude! You have been travelling and your surely exhausted! Let me show you to your chambers." Eowyn cried, standing up from her chair. "Marik, are you at least going to stay the night in your dwelling or do you return to my brothers side?"  
  
"I must return to your brother, my Lady. Perhaps we will see each other again soon." Marik answered, bowing to the ladies and wishing them both farewell then he slipped from the room and continued down the hall out of sight of the others.  
  
Eowyn turned back to Naltariel and led her down the dark halls. "So tell me of this man you love." Eowyn said quietly. Naltariel looked at her in surprise, she had not mentioned Haldir anywhere during the course of the evening and neither had Marik. Eowyn laughed. "I know a small portion of elvish, you wrote "mine and Haldir's love" so come, tell me of him."  
  
Naltariel laughed slightly. "Haldir is one of the three March Wardens of Lothlorien. He is noble and strong, though his temper can get away from his control easily. We grew up together as friends. Things changed after leaving Lorien for Rivendell I suppose, I stayed in Imladris for a hundred years and when I returned it was just different."  
  
"A hundred years! What is your age now?" Eowyn asked in surprise.  
  
"One thousand nine hundred ninety eight years." Naltariel said lightly, enjoying the shock of speaking her age before such mortals. "I am young compared to many, indeed, both my father and Lord Elrond were already several thousand years old when the Dark Lord rose the first time."  
  
"It is incredible." Eowyn said. "You Elves can live for eternity, while we are but lucky to make it past seventy, and even that is with the help of a little of the Numenorean blood."  
  
Naltariel gazed at Eowyn for a moment. "You mature faster than us. By seventy, people of my kind are barely out of the crib and walking. Small elflings are only seventy. They rejoice with grand celebrations as they reach one hundred. It is at their hundredth that they stop being an elfling and are then an elf, though a young one."  
  
"Does time pass faster for you than it does for us? Does a year seem to you as long of a time as it is to us?" Eowyn asked gently.  
  
"Time passes the same for all the living things upon Middle-Earth, we are merely left to endure it longer." Naltariel answered. "Your mortality is a gift, Lady Eowyn. Your people are able to pass into the White Halls without going through battle, murder, or suicide. There is no other way out for us."  
  
"But still! Immortality is a gift as well! And a far better one in my eyes." Eowyn cried. "To live through the ages, remembering things that have passed into legend, to speak of them as though it had not happened more than ten years before. That is a gift. What knowledge you must have!"  
  
"Yes, the gift of wisdom is upon my people, but also the curse of sorrow and loss. When you lose one you care about, Men have only a maximum of seventy years to wait before they can meet again. For the Elves it is a far different story, many do not ever meet again." Naltariel said sadly. "Grief follows us throughout the ages."  
  
Eowyn stopped before a closed door, she opened it and gave a cry of alarm at the dark figure standing in the middle of the room. It turned and Naltariel could clearly make out the face of Grima Wormtongue, the Kings advisor.  
  
"What are you doing in here?" Eowyn demanded.  
  
"The question, Lady Eowyn, is what are you doing in here?" He replied smoothly. Eowyn faltered, unable to answer the question.  
  
"Hotuli orya, elye saura ango!" (Come out of her, you foul snake) Naltariel said angrily, her eyes glittering. Eowyn suddenly blinked and looked around, her eyes falling angrily on Grima.  
  
"Get out of here!" She snapped. "These are the chambers of Lady Naltariel, you have no business here!"  
  
Wormtongue stared at her in shock, his spell over her was broken and now he feared the wrath of the fierce sheildmaiden. He nodded quickly and pushed past her out of the room, his shoulder brushing against Naltariel as he went. He cried out clutching his shoulder.  
  
"What devilry is this?" He demanded, trying his words upon Naltariel.  
  
"Your spell has no effect on my, Lord. And there is no devilry unless from you. You were burned by my touch, only those who are evil need to fear the touch of an Elf." Naltariel replied slowly her penetrating gaze staring down upon him.  
  
He stepped back, staring at her in fear then fled down the dark halls out of their sight. Naltariel sighed and turned back to Eowyn. "Are you alright, Lady Eowyn?"  
  
" . . . yes . . . I don't know what happened though. All of a sudden I heard this voice within my head telling me to leave." She said slowly, sitting down on one of the chairs within the room.  
  
"It was as I expected. His words are poison." Naltariel said quietly as she stepped into the room. "Be careful not to listen to him too long."  
  
Yay, updates should be on the way, just so long as you tell me to get my butt in gear. :D I FINALLY got over my writers block. :D 


	7. 7 Reunion

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
To My Readers: Thank you to all of you who reviewed! Here's the next chapter, as promised, if a bit late. Please continue to read this story, I've spent a whole bunch of time writing this and it would be terribly disappointing to know that I'd wasted all that time on something that no one enjoyed.  
  
Now, on with the show:  
  
Celeborn angrily read the message from her daughter that he eagle had brought him. Consent and condone the love of a March Warden and a Princess! It was pure folly! And what was now worse was that that Warden had the Estelara hanging from his neck!  
  
He angrily tossed the letter across his desk, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He tried to think of a suitable punishment for Haldir but none came to mind. He did not wish to send him to exile, for the first place he could go would be Edoras. Yet he longed to have his daughter back among the golden trees of Lorien. He refused to compromise.  
  
Should he send his forces to Edoras to retrieve her? Or would that cause conflict with Rohan and begin a war?  
  
"When did this come in?" A light voice asked, disrupting his thought. He looked up into the watery eyes of his wife, she held the letter from Naltariel in her hand. She had read it.  
  
"Just now." He replied. "Safely in Edoras! Ha! They probably forced her to write that note."  
  
"And they would know to tie it with strands of her hair? Or to write it in elvish, few Men understand the language." Galadriel said angrily. "Had you not of made up that excuse for Lord Lathun coming here she would not have fled! And still you refuse to accept their love! She has given him the Estelara, such gifts are not given lightly!"  
  
"What will the people say when they hear of this?" Celeborn demanded. "Haldir is beneath her, and you know that!"  
  
"Love does not come in levels, Celeborn! And Haldir is not beneath her, as you say, he is equal to her. I had foreseen this when they were children, and so did you! You knew it would happen sooner or later and now it has. Had you made no preparation for it, Celeborn the Wise?" Galadriel cried.  
  
A light knock sounded at the door and after being called in Haldir appeared, the Estelara hanging openly from his throat. Celeborn sucked in an angry breath, his cheeks red with fury.  
  
"She will not come." Haldir said emotionlessly.  
  
"Old news, Haldir." Celeborn snapped angrily, gesturing to the letter in Galadriel's hand. "So did you commence your love while you were at it?" He demanded spitefully.  
  
Haldir's cheeks reddened a bit but he lifted his chin proudly. "I am sorry, underneath the stars with five score of overprotective Men only a fathom away did not see like the best place to do it."  
  
"The Estelara does not belong to you." Celeborn said, his eyes falling angrily on the jewel.  
  
"She gave it to me, so I would say that it does." Haldir said defiantly.  
  
Haldir and Celeborn's eyes locked in a war of wills, each glaring at the other. Galadriel finally stepped between them. Her face was angry, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears.  
  
"I give you my blessing, Haldir." Galadriel said quietly. "I just want her back."  
  
Celeborn gawked at his wife so willingly giving consent to an Elf below her daughters stature. She was the Morning Hope and he was but a border guard. What good would come of it?  
  
"Gather the troops of Lorien, we will send as many as we can to Rohan. Word will come to them tomorrow of the armies of Isengard. We cannot leave them to stand alone, we go to honor the Last Alliance." Galadriel ordered, quickly dismissing Haldir.  
  
Haldir bowed to both the Lord and Lady and quickly exited the room, his heart soaring above the clouds. He had the blessing of Lady Galadriel and he would be travelling to Rohan as soon as his people could be gathered. Things were finally looking up.  
  
*  
  
Naltariel woke the next morning and went to find Lady Eowyn, she had a bad feeling. She found her kneeling sadly over the body of a young man weeping, he had been poisoned by an Orc weapon.  
  
"Hiro hyn hidh ab wanath." (Let him find peace after death) Naltariel whispered.  
  
Eowyn spun around staring at her in confusion for a moment. "I didn't hear you enter." She said after a moment.  
  
"It would be very poor indeed if you had. Elves are supposed to be silent when they walk." Naltariel said quietly, stepping into the room. Her eyes were drawn to the man who lay upon the bed, he was so young . . . too young to die.  
  
"He was my cousin, Theoden's only son. Now Rohan has no heir." Eowyn said sadly.  
  
"What of Eomer?" Naltariel asked.  
  
"He has been exiled. Disinheirited." She replied bitterly sweeping past Naltariel, wishing to be alone.  
  
Naltariel sighed sadly and sat down on the side of the bed beside the boy. "Cuile selma voro eylen mi i Fanyar Marde." (Life will continue for you in the White Halls) She whispered, brushing her hand over the boys cold forehead.  
  
A sound startled her and she quickly turned around to find the receding shadow of the King's advisor scurrying down the hall. She angrily got up and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.  
  
"Yasse nar elye vanwa, Ango?" (Where are you going, snake) She muttered, following him silently but tormenting his mind with questions and accusations as she went.  
  
He led her to the throne room and that's where she stopped, sighing she gave up her chase and sent outside to take in the morning air. She found Eowyn doing the same, but she was looking at something to the east. Naltariel followed her gaze and saw three horses galloping to the gates.  
  
She turned back to Eowyn to ask if they were expected but found that she had disappeared. Naltariel sighed and looked back to the visitors as they rode through the gate. Their horses were taken by stable hands as the approached Meduseld and they walked slowly up the steps. Now she recognized them.  
  
"Firi! Lendente ator quettanta!" (Men! They went back on their word) Legolas cried when he saw Naltariel standing near the door to the throne room. He ran up the stairs to meet her.  
  
"Legolas? Man na raica?" (What is wrong) She asked in concern at the expression on his face.  
  
"Why are you here?" He hissed quietly.  
  
"I came by choice, Legolas. I will not be wed off to once I do not love." She said stubbornly.  
  
"You ran away?" He asked in surprise.  
  
"Well . . . I guess, yes." She said slowly. His hand went to her head and found no scar from her wound.  
  
"You were healed by Elves." He said.  
  
"I went home for one night, then departed the next morn with the Men of Rohan." She explained, drawing him into a hug. They had been friends in earlier years, he had come to stay in Rivendell for some time when she had been residing there.  
  
"Nar elye tanca elye nar varna?" (Are you sure you are safe) He asked quietly, the rest of his companions had come up the stairs and were waiting patiently for their reunion to end.  
  
"Inye nar varna." (I am safe) She said firmly. Then she turned to the others. "Aragorn it is good to see you well. And you Gandalf, it has been quite some time since we last met. I am afraid I have not been introduced to you yet, Master Dwarf." She curtsied slightly, she could see Legolas holding in laughter from the corner of her eyes. The expression of the Dwarf was quite unique, but it would be rude to laugh.  
  
"Gimi son of Gloin at your service, my Lady." The Dwarf said, bowing deeply in awe.  
  
"I thank you for that, Gimli son of Gloin." She replied,curtsying again. Then led them to the doors. After the commotion with Hama, the door guard, for they all loathed to relinquish their weapons, they entered the throne room.  
  
*  
  
Haldir's men were assembled and as he looked upon them, he could not help the feeling of pride that came to his heart. It had been many long years since the Elves of Lorien had marched to war and now the feather shaped helms of the glistened in the rising sun.  
  
"Proud Elves of Lothlorien!" He called clearly. "Today we march to the aid of Rohan. Lady Galadriel has foreseen the armies of Isengard marching out to crush these Men. We cannot let this happen. We will march to Helm's Deep, for the Lady has foreseen the people of Rohan fleeing Edoras to the protection the fortress provides. We go to honor the Last Alliance."  
  
The Elves nodded and began to march swiftly from Lorien and towards Helm's Deep. He smiled, only one sight was fairer, in his eyes, than the graceful motions of the Elves marching to war. That fair sight was Naltariel, the Morning Hope and with any luck he would see her too before all this was through.  
  
Only the bare minimum of soldiers that would be needed to watch over the borders were left behind. Galadriel had wished him luck and safety and the blessing of the Valar before he had gone to rally the soldiers.  
  
*  
  
"Edoras is to be emptied by order of the King. We will go to Helms Deep!" The messengers cried outside Naltariel's window. Galdalf had come and removed Saruman and Grima Wormtongue's hold on Rohan and now they fled to the safety of the mountain fortress. She shuddered, Eowyn had told her of the deep. She would be sent down into the caves with the rest of the women and children. The dead, lifeless caves of Ered Nimrais, and she would be stuck there for perhaps many days.  
  
A light knock sounded on her door then was opened, it was Eowyn, dressed in a long brown travelling gown. Her sword was sheathed at her side. "Tell me of Aragorn." She ordered.  
  
"What of him?" Naltariel asked, he had come to Rivendell near the end of her stay. He had been seventeen when she'd left.  
  
"What is he like? Who is he really?" She asked cryptically, coming to sit on a chair in the room.  
  
So Naltariel told her many stories of his childhood, his kindness and loyalty. His ferocity when those he cared for were in danger. The trouble and many incidents he had gotten into when he had first arrived at Rivendell. Him trying so hard to be an Elf and weeping when he could not tread as lightly or hear and see as well as them.  
  
But she spoke nothing of his romance with Arwen Evenstar, even when asked directly who his heart belonged to. She had feigned that she did not know, and she wondered at that later. Why did she not tell the truth to Eowyn? That Aragorn son of Arathorn's heart belonged to Arwen, the Evenstar of the Elves, the daughter of Lord Elrond, Naltariel's niece though she was younger.  
  
"You seem to know him well." Eowyn observed.  
  
"He grew in my presence. I was there when he was first brought to the Elves and stayed until only three years before he left Rivendell. He has always been kind to me, and it saddens my heart to see him now." Naltariel said quietly.  
  
"Saddens you?" Eowyn asked in surprise.  
  
"I'm afraid his time in the wilderness has effected him deeply. He did not used to be so . . . I don't know the word. Perhaps harsh, yet he is not if you are a friend. Distant maybe, yes, distant. He tends to keep to himself more now than he had when he was younger, indeed he used to be quite a flirt, bringing flowers to all the elf-maids." She said, a small smile coming to her lips at he memory. "He was perhaps seven when he asked to wed me. It was sweet for a child of his age."  
  
"So he feels for you?" She asked.  
  
"He felt for every fair maiden in Rivendell when he was a child, that cannot be held against him. He has no romantic sentiment for me." Naltariel replied, the last of her things packed back away into the pack she had brought. "He has a kind and noble heart, Eowyn. Someday he will be a great king and all his people will love him."  
  
*  
  
Eomer sighed, looking up at the stars as he lay back on his sleeping mat. He had yet to get sleep this night, but still the dreams of the unwaking world eluded him. He closed his eyes and the face of a fair and beautiful Elf maiden came to his eyes, he opened his eyes again swiftly.  
  
What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just forget her and move on? Why did she continue to haunt him. It had been three days now since he had left her in Edoras and it had been three days since he had last slept.  
  
A rustle in the grass drew him back from his thoughts, he turned his head to find Marik looking upon him with an expression of concern on his face. The man tossed down his own sleeping mat and sat down on it.  
  
"What ails you, My Lord?" He asked.  
  
"Nothing ails me, my friend." Eomer replied, looking back up to the stars above.  
  
"Then why do you not sleep?" Marik asked.  
  
Eomer sighed and sat up, he could see that many of his men were looking on their conversation in concern. "I wonder what would have happened, should we not have taken her to Edoras."  
  
"You wished to keep her as a possession?" Marik asked in surprise.  
  
"No, not a possession. A companion." Eomer said quietly. "She haunts me now. I cannot even close my eyes without seeing her face. I remember after the third battle when I took her out of harms way . . . I remember the contentment I felt as she just lay there in my arms, peacefully sleeping. And I wonder if she felt the same."  
  
"But her heart has already been claimed." Marik said. "The Elf, Haldir. Her lover, her friend, her mate."  
  
"I know, but what if her feeling for him were not as true as she thought. Perhaps she could be persuaded to love another." Eomer said slowly.  
  
"A Man. You are a Man, Eomer. She is an Elf of the Golden Wood." Marik said, shaking his head. "There are rumors of the Elves leaving this land to go back to the lands of their ancestors."  
  
Eomer hesitated, she had told him the tale of Aragorn and Arwen. Arwen would have to choose between her family and her lover. Would he be able to put her through the same choice? Would it be fair? Haldir would at least sail across the Sea with her.  
  
He sighed and lay back on his mat, looking up at the stars. "Such rumors are true. And I am aware of the fact that she is an immortal Elf and I am but a Man."  
  
*  
  
"It would be an honor, Master Dwarf, if you would use one of my mounts on this journey. For my dear friend Legolas has told me that you ride." Naltariel said kindly to the Dwarf who stood before her.  
  
"Not willingly!" Gimli said stubbornly. "But since you have asked, Fair Lady, I will ride one of your mounts. That silver one reminds me of the treasures from home, it would be a fair mount."  
  
Vaiwa shook her mane happily and stepped forwards, as though it had known their conversation. She nuzzled her snout against the stout Dwarve's shoulder and knelt down on the ground for Gimli to mount her.  
  
"Well I'll be!" Gimli cried in surprise, climbing up onto the back of the beast without any mishap. "This is far better than the pushing and pulling of mounting Arod!"  
  
Naltariel smiled and lightly leapt up onto the back of Laurea, her leg was fully mended now and she was in as free of spirits as though she were a colt. She felt someone leap onto the mare behind her and press a quick kiss to her cheek.  
  
"Hullo, Lady Naltariel." Legolas said happily. "It is a fine enough day for a ride, is it not?"  
  
Naltariel smiled, it was Legolas' custom to kiss her on the cheek when they met but he had forgotten in his worry at their first meeting. "Quite, My Lord." She replied. He wrapped an arm around her and then they were off on their way to Helms Deep, a place she did not wish to go.  
  
AN: Yay! I FINALLY got my computer back from Future Shop. Plz Read and Review :D 


	8. The Stone's Voice

Many hours of silence had passed between her and the Woodland Prince until finally she spoke. "How is Mirkwood, My Prince?"

"It is well enough." Legolas replied softly, picking up on her nervous mood. "The spiders and Orcs still wander, but we are making progress in exterminating them. It will not be much longer. What worries you?"

"I do not like caves, My Lord. I fear being trapped down inside that lifeless darkness." She said quietly.

He sighed then quickly jumped off the horse. He jumped back up again a second later with a rock in his hand. He put it in her palm. "Feel it. No life seems to whisper from it, correct?"

She nodded, looking with disdain upon the rock in her hand. It was a smooth round stone that fit nicely in the palm of her hand, but no life whispered from it. She could feel nothing but the coldness of stone.

"Hold it to your breast and listen carefully." He said softly, leading her hand to her chest.

She waited patiently, closing her eyes to make her hearing more acute. She could hear the sound of horse hooves clop against the dry ground and the murmured whispers of the people of Rohan who were fleeing their home. The birds sang their songs high above in the sky. But then she heard it, all other noise faded away and a soft voice told her stories of times long before even the oldest trees were upon the lands.

A small smile came to her lips as she opened her eyes. "It has a voice as well!" She said happily. Legolas nodded. "How did you know that stone a voice?"

"At first when I as a child in Mirkwood, I've told you that my fathers palace is under a large hill. But I soon forgot about it, thinking it only some of the louder trees. I discovered it again in Moria. Had it not been for their voices, I surely would have gone mad.

"The darkness of Moria is far worse than the caves of Helm's Deep will be, but let the stone comfort you now. Do not fear it. We will not let them enter the caves, you will be safe." Legolas soothed.

She held the stone up to her chest again and listened for the voice. She found it quickly and smiled as she listened to stories and riddles of ages upon ages long past.

"Behold! Helm's Deep!" Someone cried from the front of the procession. Naltariel opened her eyes quickly and looked upon the huge frowning fortress. It seemed a sad place to her, backed up onto the mountains behind it like an animal cornered and waiting for the killing blow, she thought grimly.

When they entered the Deep they were fortunately allowed to still walk up in the open. Though Naltariel was quickly finding comfort with rock and stone, she still loved the fresh air and the golden sky of dawn.

She walked slowly through the halls of the inner fortress, looking in wonder upon the heroic murals she saw lining the walls. Their colors were dull now, faded after many years of hanging in this dark place but she could still see the pride and valor the Men saw in them. There were portraits of brave men, valiant and strong, lining the halls.

"Lady Naltariel." A strong voice called from behind her. She turned to see King Theoden watching her.

"Yes, My Lord?" She asked in surprise, she had not yet spoken with the King since his liberation from Saruman. She hoped he wasn't about to send her home.

"I wish to thank you." The King said hesitantly.

"Thank me? For what, My Lord?" Naltariel asked, bewildered.

"I heard your voice within my head. You too fought a battle against Saruman, but for a Man you did not know in the least." Theoden replied.

She stared at him for a moment. "It was no battle, My Lord. My will is naught compared to the white wizard's."

"It is stronger than you know, child. Much stronger." The King said kindly then turned and walked down the halls.

Naltariel stared after him, wondering at the meaning of his words. An amused smile came to her face. Child, she thought, I have walked these lands so much longer than he! A child perhaps I look in his eyes, yet I can see things he cannot and know tales of things that happened in the time of his forefathers. She chucked in amusement.

Eomer stopped, he could hear a horse's hoof beats galloping towards him. He turned and saw a single white shape speeding across the lands behind him and his company. He called to his men and they quickly turned their horses around to face the rider. As he approached, Eomer could see a long white beard and white robes fluttering in the winds behind him. Mithrandir.

"Eomer son of Eomund!" The old man cried. Eomer nudged his horse forward slightly. "War has befallen your people! The armies of Isengard will descend upon them at Helm's Deep like a pack of hungry dogs scrapping over meat. You and your Men are greatly needed."

"The Grey Pilgrim is Grey no more, so it seems." Eomer said hesitantly. "We have scoured these lands over and over again. No force worthy of such alarm could possibly exist."

"I have been sent by Theoden King. He is no longer under the control of Saruman." Galdalf said sternly.

"And whose control would he be under now? Yours, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Eomer demanded. "You are a bringer of ill news, even when we do not reside in Edoras. We are exiles, you are to bring your troubles to people of greater importance."

"And who is of greater importance than the heir of Rohan?" Gandalf demanded.

"Theodred! What has happened?" Eomer cried.

"He has passed. The wounds were too great for him to bear and he is now finding his way into the halls of your fathers." Gandalf said sadly.

"Your presence truly is an evil omen." Eomer muttered, bowing his head in sorrow. "He was hardly a man, no more than seventeen."

"We have not time for this now, Eomer. Your people are in need. We must make haste to Helm's Deep lest we arrive too late." Gandalf said slowly, putting a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. Eomer shrugged it off.

"Men! We ride to Helm's Deep. We must move fast, leave all that can be left behind here. We ride to the aid of our King!" Eomer called to the men behind him.

Haldir smiled in relief, they had finally made it to Helm's Deep. Now the giant stone fortress loomed up above him and his men. He blew the horn of Lorien when they finally reached the big wooden gate.

To him the fortress of Helm's Deep seemed unbreakable, it's stone walls were nearly two feet thick and they continued to the mountain on either side. Unless an enemy wished to climb the deadly mountains beyond from the other side to reach the fortress, it would have to be a frontal attack.

After a few minutes the gates were swung open for him and his company. They silently marched through the arch and came before the king. "How can this be?" The King asked in awe of the battalion behind him.

"Long ago Men and Elves formed an alliance to defeat the Dark Lord. We come to you now to honor that alliance. We are proud to fight at your side in these uncertain times." Haldir said eloquently.

Just then Aragorn arrived from the halls beyond."Mae govannen, Haldir!" (Welcome, Haldir) He cried and embraced him in a hug. After the moment of shock had worn off Haldir embraced the Man back, realizing that he had begun to lose hope.

Aragorn released him and stepped away, behind him he could see a figure wrapped in a grey-silver cloak hiding beyond the wall, looking on to the meeting. A wisp of silver-gold hair fell from the hood. He smiled.

"Naltariel!" He cried, she threw off her hood and ran down into his arms. She pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, heedless of all that watched. The Elves behind Haldir began to murmur their surprise.

"I missed you, Haldir." She said softly, her hand gently caressed the Estelara around his neck.

"Not nearly as much as I've missed you, melda." (Beloved) He whispered pressing his lips to her brow. "We have your mothers blessing."

She looked up to him in shock. "This is not jest?" She asked warily. He shook his head. Tears came to her eyes and she hugged him tight to her. "This is better news than I ever would have hoped for . . . wait . . . my father still does not approve?"

Haldir sighed. "He sees as I once saw. I am beneath your stature, Naltariel. He would not have his daughter, his princess, the Morning Hope wed to a simple border guard."

"A simple border guard? A simple border guard! You are a March Warden! One of only three." She exclaimed.

"Come, we will go speak of this alone." Haldir said, realizing the Elves behind him were listening with curiosity to their conversation. The Men could not hear, but the Elves keen hearing could pick up their whispers. She nodded silently and took his hand, leading him away down one of the halls to a place of more privacy.

Naltariel sighed and pulled the sheets above her head. Haldir lay sleeping beside her peacefully; she smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. His eyes opened and he smiled.

"Hey." He murmured sleepily, drawing her close to him.

She kissed him again. "When do you have to leave?" She asked sadly, playing with a tress of his long blond hair.

"Not quite yet." He whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder. "You're so beautiful."

She smiled slightly and looked down in embarrassment. He laughed and held her tight pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. A loud knock sounded at the door. Naltariel froze and stayed absolutely silent, Haldir did the same.

"Naltariel? Are you in there?" It was Rumil. She looked to Haldir in shock, what were they going to do? Haldir nodded to her, silently sitting up.

"Um . . . yes, Rumil." She called nervously.

"Have you seen Haldir?" He called. Naltariel went red, looking to her lover for the correct answer.

"I'm here too, Rumil." Haldir called, brushing a finger gently across Naltariel's cheek.

"What are you doing in . . . oh." Rumil said abashed. "Um . . . well . . . uh . . . can we speak with you? Alone?"

Haldir sighed and quickly put on some trousers then went to answer the door. He slipped out quickly so no one would see her then closed the door firmly behind him. She could hear the sound of muffled voices behind the door; she picked out Aragorn's voice along with them. She blushed again; she would never hear the end of this.

"Already? How many?" Haldir asked in surprise. He, Rumil, and Aragorn were standing in the hall speaking in quiet whispers.

"Ten thousand at least." Aragorn replied.

Haldir sighed. "How close?"

"Less than half an hour." Rumil answered. "Get Naltariel down into the caves then join us on the battlements."

Haldir looked longingly back at the door and nodded. He would take her down to the caves and he would defend this keep until there was no breath left in his body. The Orcs would not come near her, they would not harm her.

Rumil and Aragorn quickly walked away and Haldir turned and entered the room. She was sitting on the bed, the sheets tangled around her body in an attempt at modesty. He smiled and it eventually turned into a laugh.

"So modest. I have already seen all of you." He whispered and kissed her brow.

"Yes, but Rumil and Aragorn have not. I hope to keep it that way too." She said and turned to kiss him and draw him back onto the bed. He resisted.

"You need to get dressed." He sighed, scooping up her gown from the floor.

She looked at him in concern. "What's wrong? Did I not please you?" She asked in worry.

He looked at her in shock. "Why would you say that? You are the only thing I have ever wanted. Do not say such things." He said quickly, drawing her into a tight embrace.

"Then what's happened? What did Aragorn and Rumil say?" She asked quietly. He realized she could feel his worry.

"I have to get you down into the caves." He said quietly. "They come." She looked at him with fear in her eyes but he quickly kissed her forehead. "I will not allow them to harm you. I promise."


	9. Of Elven Ears and Anguish

Okay, so as you've all noticed from chapter 8, I've recovered the rest of this story. Unfortunately it wasn't completed, so the last two or three chapters wont be as good as the rest because I had to write them over Christmas break, but you guys shouldn't have to worry about that for a while because there's still another 60 pages or so before we get to that. But in the meanwhile, enjoy this chapter and the chapters yet to come.

Naltariel sat sadly in the dark caves next to Eowyn. She could hear the whispers of the mountain around her, but it did not bring her comfort. Her keen Elven ears had already picked up the sounds of marching feet. It would not be much longer until the humans could hear it too.

"You love that Elf, don't you?" Eowyn said quietly at her side. It was then that she noticed the woman had been watching her intently for some moments.

Naltariel slowly looked to her friend. "He is Haldir." She said simply, speaking nothing of the feeling of foreboding writhing in her heart. She felt nearly sick with fear but she did not think it was because of the Orcs marching near. It was something else, far deeper, more spiritual.

Suddenly one of the women cried out. "They're coming! I can hear their feet!" She cried. Naltariel quickly rose and went to the woman, comforting her as best she could. Many others began to weep and panic as the dark army marched above their heads. The walls of the cave shook and dirt fell from the roof onto their heads and shoulders.

Naltariel didn't know what to do. She needed comfort herself, yet she had to help soothe all these women. It was too wearisome a job for just Eowyn. The women held their children, which had been spared from battle, close to them as though they could be snatched away at any moment like their older sons had.

"Ai! laurie lantar lassi surinen,

yeni unotime ve ramar aldaron!

Yeni ve linte yuldar avanier

mi oromardi lisse-miruvoreva

Andune pella, Vardo tellumar

nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni

omaryo airetari-lirinen.

Si man i yulma nin enquantuva?

An si Tintalle Varda Oiolosseo

ve fanyar maryat Elentari ortane,

ar ilye tier undulave lumbule;

ar sindanoriello caita mornie

i falmalinnar imbe met, ar hisie

untupa Calaciryo miri oiale.

Si vanwa na, Romello vanwa, Valimar!

Namarie! Nai hiruvalye Valimar.

Nai elye hiruva. Namarie."

She sang softly into the darkness, the cries and weeping came near to a stop almost at once and her voice rang clear through the caves. The women around her knew it was a sad song, yet somehow it brought ease to their troubled hearts. Many of the children crowded around her while their mothers watched from a distance. One little grubby child crawled up into her lap. Perhaps this would not be too bad.

"To the Keep! To the Keep!" Haldir heard Aragorn yelling from behind him. "Haldir! To the Keep!"

Haldir viscously slashed the nearest Orc to him, taking it's head off. He was on the outer wall and had been one of the closest to the piece that had been destroyed with the devilry of Saruman. He jabbed his blade into the throat of another Orc just climbing over the wall and turned to flee.

A large Uruk was suddenly standing before him without fear. It raised it's crooked scrimtar threateningly and stepped forward. Haldir stepped back gracefully, no fear upon his face as he confronted the Uruk.

"To the Keep, Haldir!" He heard Aragorn yell from somewhere nearer by. Haldir nodded and swiftly jumped out of the beasts first swing then turned and ran towards the Keep, relying too much on the Orcs clumsiness.

He cried out as he felt the Orcs scrimtar come down on his shoulder, he fell to his knee's. He turned and tried to lift his sword to defend himself but the Uruk was in the state of war adrenaline and the scrimtar came swiftly down on him again.

The world seemed to slow to barely a crawl as he felt his immortality slipping away from him. He saw Aragorn come running to his side, driving his sword into the Uruk. Then his head was being cradled in Aragorn's arms.

"Haldir!" He cried in anguish.

"Naltariel . . ." Was all he could get through his lips, his hand going slowly to the Estelara.

"She is safe, Haldir. I will keep her safe. No harm will come to her. I promise." Aragorn said determinedly. Haldir nodded slowly then closed his eyes, letting darkness claim him.

Eomer and his Men rode up over the hill behind Gandalf on the fifth morn. He looked in horror upon the destruction before him. At least two thousand Orcs were still battling outside the fortress. A huge gaping hole was in the wall of the fortress of which Orcs constantly streamed into. They had breached the unbreakable fortress and were now winning the battle.

"Forth Eorlingas!" He cried, raising his sword, Guthwine.

"Helm! Helm!" The riders behind him shouted. "Helm is arisen and comes back to war! Helm for Theoden King!" The Riders of Rohan and the White Rider charged down the steep hill into the fray. Slashing and hacking at every Orc they could reach.

Naltariel paused in her song and looked up to the roof of the cave. She could hear the hooves of horses upon the ground above her. "Eomer has come! Eomer and his Riders have come!" She cried happily.

The women in the cave were suddenly relieved and there was rejoicing, for tales of Eomer's exploits were well known to them. The Riders of Rohan, they knew, were responsible for keeping them so safe for all the years previous. They galloped through Rohan far and wide searching for Orcs and slaying them.

"How do you know this, My Lady?" One of the older children asked. She was slender and had long blonde hair, she reminded her of Eowyn. Naltariel smiled and pulled her hair away from her ears. The child's face instantly turned into an expression of shock. "Your an Elf!" She cried in surprise.

"Yes, did not you know that?" Naltariel asked cautiously. If all in the cave had thought her a human, what would they do when they realized she was an Elf?

"One of the ladies over there," The girl pointed to a small group of woman talking softly. "Said something about Elves, but I've never seen one before. Is it true that you are so light that you can walk on top of water?" She asked in awe.

Naltariel laughed, where had that come from? "No, I sink in water just like you do."

"Oh. But you can talk to trees, right?" The girl asked somewhat disappointed.

"I can talk to all living things." Naltariel said softly.

"Can you teach me?" The girl asked hopefully. "They said I have Elf blood in my veins somewhere."

Naltariel looked at the girl thoughtfully for a moment then picked up a stone from the ground. She placed the rock in the girls hand and held it close to the girl's chest. "We do not listen with our ears, but with our hearts. If you have Elvish blood within you, you may be able to hear this stones tale. They are much quieter than trees or water, but stone too has a voice." She said softly. "You must reach out to it with understanding and care in your heart. If you wish to learn the ways of the Elves, you too must respect all nature as we do."

The girl nodded and closed her eyes, holding the stone to her chest but after a few moments she opened her eyes again with a frown. "I can't hear anything." She said in disappointment.

"Have patience, little one. I have been listening to the voices of the world for a very long time now, yet only recently did I discover the voice of stone." Naltariel said soothingly and placed a hand on the girls shoulder. The girl nodded and walked off to a solitary corner with the stone in her hand, she would keep trying.

Eomer stood silently atop the battlements of the wall looking at the destruction before him. So much death, he thought to himself. He had watched as both Hattim and Lorund had been felled in battle, only Marik remained of his closest friends, but beyond them he had lost many more. Now he wondered why he had been given the chance to live while their lives had been snuffed out like a candle with too little air.

He looked down in sorrow, but his eye caught the glimmer of something in the setting sun as he did. He slowly started towards it before his mind even registered what he was doing. He looked down upon the glimmering object; he recognized it as the Estelara around the lifeless throat of the Elf, Haldir. He shook his head in regret and lightly plucked the chain from the corpse's throat.

It was light within his hand and glittered as though a sun of its own was trapped within the jeweled pendant. He sighed and left the battlements, slipping silently into the keep. He looked across at the women coming out of the caves and took in a steadying breath. He knew what he must do.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw the brilliant blonde hair of the elf-maid come out of the darkness, she smiled happily to be free of the stone. He started towards her, sorrow taking its grip on him more with each step. How did one disclose the news that their lover was dead?

"My Lady." He said slowly, bowing his head slightly as he came before her.

"Lord Eomer!" She said in happiness.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the words to say what must be said, but he could not. He took her hand and placed the Estelara within it. "I'm sorry."

Naltariel looked to him puzzled for a moment before looking down into her hand. Her heart stopped, this had to be a mistake. She shook her head in disbelief, Haldir must have dropped it, she thought to herself, trying desperately to deny the truth.

"Where did you find this?" She demanded venomously. "On the ground. He dropped it! You would have me believe--" She stopped short in her ranting at the look on his face; the look of pity she saw in his eyes.

"I am sorry, Naltariel. I found him upon the battlements." He said softly.

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes but she fought them back. She turned from Eomer for the door. She would find him, and she would prove Eomer wrong. He wasn't gone, he couldn't be gone. Not now.

She felt Eomer's restraining hand suddenly clamp upon her arm, refusing to let go. Blinded by her tears she struggled against the grip, she had to go to Haldir! She had to help him! The grip tightened the more she struggled against it and soon she found herself with two strong arms around her.

She felt hope leaving her, she knew as well as he did that she had lost her lover. Still, she wished she did not have to admit it. She had known Haldir for so long, she remembered. . .

"I bet you'd be so scared of an Orc you'd run away crying." Orophin said tauntingly.

"Yeah, you'd run away and cry!" Rumil said in agreement.

"I would not!" She cried indignantly, staring haughtily at the two older boys before her. "And how would you know? You've never seen one!"

"I have too!" Orophin and Rumil both cried in unison, trying to sound strong in front of the girl.

"I bet you there's one in those woods right there, just waiting until your alone. It's scared because me and Rumil are here!" Orophin said proudly.

She looked to the wood nervously, the shadows laying eerily across the ground in the fading sunlight. "There is not, Oro! Stop trying to scare me!" She said apprehensively.

Suddenly there was a movement in the bush and she was flung to the ground, the Orc from the wood on top of her holding her down. She screamed bloody murder and blindly swatted and slapped against the body above her. Her nails dug into flesh and she ripped angrily across the beast face.

"Ow!" cried a familiar voice. She heard the laughing of Orophin and Rumil not too far away. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking away her tears and stared up into familiar blue-grey eyes.

"Haldir?" She asked in surprise. She had slashed her nails across his left cheek, leaving four long gashes. She sat up hurriedly, Haldir falling to the ground on his behind. His hand went to his cheek and he saw the look of shock as it came away with blood.

"Look what you did!" He exclaimed.

"You shouldn't have jumped on me, Haldir!" She cried in protest, shaking the leaves from her hair.

"I didn't make you bleed!" He complained.

All the while Rumil and Orophin were laughing a few feet away. "Go away Oro and Rumi, this is all your fault. Go away before I claw your faces up too!" She cried, glaring at the two. Their laughter died and they ran away into the shadows of the wood around them, no doubt heading for home as it was getting late. "I'm sorry Haldir." She said helplessly.

He smiled slightly at her and quickly got to his feet. "It's okay, Naltari. It didn't really hurt." He lied, trying to wipe the blood away from his wounds.

"Sit back down, Haldir! Mother's taught me a little bit of healing. Maybe I can make it better so we won't get in trouble." She said in distress, getting up onto her knees. Haldir sighed and sat back down on the ground.

She looked at the wounds she had caused him and gently touched them with her fingers, he winced. "You lied! It does too hurt." She cried in surprise.

"Only a little bit." He conceded as he watched her with interest. He placed the palm of her hand on his cheek and whispered some things in Old Elvish, the language he wasn't allowed to learn. He already knew Sindarin, Quenya, and a little bit of Westron, but the old language was for magic alone.

Immediately the pain began to lessen and he could feel some sort of magic fixing the wound, closing the skin back over where it had been torn. A few minutes later she opened her eyes and removed her hand to look at his cheek, it was better.

"I'm sooooo sorry, Haldir." She said childishly, her cheeks flaming red.

"You owe me." Was all he said, fascinated by the flush of her cheeks.

"What?" She asked in surprise, staring at him in disbelief. "You jumped on me!"

"I want a kiss. If you don't I'll tell your Father that you clawed up my face and you'll get in trouble." He said mischievously.

She gaped at him in shock, her mouth hanging open and her eyes bugged out. "Haldir!" She cried. "Why I ought to claw out your eyes!" She lunged towards him, but he was too fast for her. He had been training to be a warrior and rolled out of the way, his hand clasped her hip and she rolled with him.

He landed on top of her and smirked, victory glittering in his eyes. She glared at him and struggled against his grip, but then he took both her arms and held them over her head so she couldn't hurt him. He quickly lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a soft kiss, her first kiss.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked cockily.

She glared at him and pushed him off her. "I'd rather kiss a Dwarve, than you, Haldir." She said haughtily as she scrambled to her feet. She could see the hurt in his eyes but she didn't care, she was angry and he'd have the rest of time to regret what he'd done.

She collapsed into Eomer's arms, weeping bitterly, shaking her head as she tried to rid herself of her grief. Why did Iluvatar have to be so cruel, she thought, her tears falling unchecked from her eyes.

"Naltari?" She heard Legolas ask in concern behind her. She turned her head slightly; the blurred vision of both Legolas and Aragorn greeted her eyes. They both looked tired, exhausted, but she could do nothing to help them. Not when her grief was so strong.

Legolas stepped forward and lifted her into his arms. "You need rest, Naltari." He murmured, carrying her away to her chambers for her to get some sleep. The Estelara was still clutched tightly in her hand, the jewels biting into her skin but she wouldn't loosen her grip, it was all she had left of Haldir.

Eomer watched as the Elf, Legolas, casually took her from his arms, a blur of different emotions surfacing only to be replaced with a speed faster than the current of the Anduin. At first he felt jealousy as he watched the elf-maid collapse so willingly into the other Elf's arms, then he felt anger. Why should the Elf be the one to carry and hold her? This feeling was soon replaced with sorrow and understanding. Only an Elf would be able to understand what she was going through.

Legolas carried Naltariel silently down the hall and soon they turned a corner and were gone from his view. Only then did he realize that Aragorn was watching him intently, he turned questioningly to Isildur's heir.

"Eomer. . ." He said slowly, cautiously choosing his words before he said them. "She gave both her heart and body to Haldir for her love of him. I can see the emotions running through your mind; I . . . do not think she will accept the love of another, at least not during your lifetime."

Eomer's eyes narrowed in anger that his thoughts could be read so easily by this man. "It was but worry for her that you saw upon my face, no more." He said sharply. Aragorn nodded slowly, his grey eyes watched him in a gaze that seemed to see through his flesh right into the depths of his soul.

"So be it, but remember my words, dear friend." Aragorn said and gave him a pat upon the shoulder. "You should get some rest, My Lord, you too are struggling with grief."

Eomer watched in contempt as the heir of Gondor walked silently away from him down the hall, he sighed and thought briefly of sleep but then shook his head. He would find no rest in this place, not after losing so many. He slowly made his way to the small library of the fortress, where he found his uncle sitting forlornly with Gandalf.

"Eomer!" cried the king. "The troubles of my heart are lifted with your arrival."

"My Lord, it does me well to see you healthy again." He replied stiffly, he was not in the mood for the uncomfortable apology and such that would follow. He could feel Gandalf's eyes upon him and, as he had thought Aragorn's gaze was unsteadying, the old wizard's was far worse.

"Yes, I suppose you have not seen me since my recovery." Theoden said sadly. "I'm sorry, my boy, you are welcome anywhere within Rohan. It was not I that spoke your exile but that serpent Wormtongue."

Eomer bowed slightly and accepted his uncle's apology. He longed to leave the kings company now and perhaps take a ride to sort out his thoughts, but that would not be possible at the moment. Theoden was now asking how bad the Orc infiltration was, he wanted to know everything that had happened since his exile.

Many hours later he was finally able to leave the king and wizards company. He hurried down the halls quickly, seeking his chambers, for now he was utterly exhausted. He suddenly paused.

"Damn you, Naltariel! Don't do this!" It was the voice of Aragorn behind the door to his left. He silently crept forward and could hear the bitter weeping of the elf-maid. Whatever the future king of Gondor was doing, the maiden did not appreciate it.

He slammed open the door, prepared to give Aragorn a large piece of his mind. He froze at the site before him. Naltariel lay upon the bed, the face even paler than it had been when he had first seen her, her eyes and cheeks streaked red with tears. Around the bed stood Legolas, both of Haldir's brothers and Aragorn, all with looks of grief upon their faces.

He saw Naltariel shift her eyes over to him, a weak smile coming to her face "Valanya." (My Vala) She whispered softly. Aragorn gave a slight nod of his head and the three Elves stood shoulder to shoulder before her, blocking her view of him.

Aragorn stalked over to him, pushing the heir of Rohan against the wall and holding him there with his forearm pressed firmly against his chest. Anger and frustration was clearly etched across his face. He had made a promise to a dying friend to keep Naltariel safe, and now she was dying. He had not remembered that Elves could perish of a broken heart at the time of the promise, and now he was left fighting to keep her alive.

"If you can save her, do it." He said quietly. "If not, leave. She needs no more grief to hurry her on her fatal path. She will die if she cannot mend her grief."

Eomer stared at the other Man for a moment and nodded curtly. Aragorn sighed and released his grip on him, stepping away a few paces.

Eomer cautiously walked towards the elf-maid, he could see a shadow of a smile return when she caught sight of him in her glazed over eyes. He knelt softly beside the bed, her hand reached dazedly towards him. He took it and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Naltariel?" He asked softly, he watched with some hope as her eyes focused again.

"He's really gone?" She asked sadly, her eyes looking pleadingly to him for some hope.

Eomer took a deep breath, looking up to the Elves standing above him for some sort of encouragement. Orophin nodded slowly, his own eyes shadowed with the grief of losing his brother. "Yes, he's gone." He said slowly. New tears began to form in her eyes, pushing the old ones out and down her cheeks.

"It's all my fault!" She moaned between sobs. "If I hadn't run away he wouldn't have some here looking for me!" Her eyes unfocussed again and her wails of grief could clearly be heard down the corridor.

"It's not your fault! How could he have known this was to be his fate?" Eomer demanded. "What would he think of this? What would he think of you forsaking your own life and happiness because of his passing?"

She stopped and the room fell utterly silent. She looked at him through tear-brimmed eyes and ran a trembling hand across his cheek as though to assure herself that he was real. "You're right, Eomer. You have a Vala's wisdom within you." She said softly.

His hand went to hers and he held her hand in place for a moment before letting it fall limply back onto the bed. She struggled to sit upright, looking apologetically to the three Elves and the heir of Gondor.

She pulled both Orophin and Rumil into a tight embrace. "Inye nyere" (I'm sorry) She whispered to them. They hugged her back, soon followed by Aragorn and Legolas joining her embrace.

"You need to rest, Naltari." Aragorn said softly, releasing her from his embrace. The others nodded in agreement and slowly filed out of the room, Eomer leaving last.

"Eomer." She called softly. Eomer turned, looking at her in question. She gestured for him to sit in the chair beside the bed. He did as was asked and waited for her to talk. "Thank you." She whispered.

He smiled slightly, his fingers gently caressing her cheek. "You need not thank me." He murmured.

She took his hand and kissed his it lightly in a misguided gesture of thankfulness. "I owe you my life, more than once." She asked softly.

"It's alright." He whispered. "It would have been dishonorable to leave you to perish."

She nodded slightly her eyes closing sadly. "I will see you again when I awake." She said softly.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead then quickly left the room, leaving her to her rest. He closed the door softly and made his way to his room to finally get some rest.

The light of the Estelara shone brightly through the gloomy darkness, shrouding it's bearer in mystery. Behind the jewel all that could be seen were mounted cavalry men, their helms and the tips of their spears reflecting the Elvish light. They all stood silent as they looked down at the scene before them.

A large field writhed with masses of Orcs and war towers and siege engines, in front of the Orcs stood a city of white stone, its beauty marred by the destruction caused by the vile invasion. Few Men were left to protect the walls, the hope of the city's defenders all but gone.

Then light overcame darkness and the cavalry charged down onto the field, destroying the foe in a short time, the Estelara sending hope back into the hearts of the city as they praised the gloomy dawn.


	10. Notes and Farewell's

"We will be departing for Gondor in the morn. Sauron will be deeply angered by his defeat at Helm's Deep and will hit back fast and hard at the other kingdom of Men." Theoden called out to his exhausted warriors two days after the battle for Rohan.

Naltariel, who sat quietly with Legolas on the steps to the Deep, squeezed her eyes shut. She had helped in the infirmary, healing as many of the men and boys as she could, but now her powers were spent and she barely had the strength to stand.

Her fingers twined unconsciously through the chain of the Estelara as she watched the Men assembled in the courtyard stand in order before their king. The boys that had survived had gone back to their mothers; they would be spared from traveling to Gondor to face the horrors of battle again. Such horrors, so much death and grief.

"Do you think . . . that. . . he is happy where he is now?" She asked, knowing she didn't need to state who she was talking about.

Legolas turned his head to watch her. "I think Haldir could quite possibly be the happiest Elf in history. He has your love, Naltariel, and one day once many ages have past, you will both be together again. Is not the pursuit of life to find the one you were meant to love? He completed his life's quest and so his passing is not with too much grief. He was ready to go."

Tears brimmed in her eyes again and she looked back to her friend. "Then why did I not pass too? I found my love and yet I am left here to feel grief at his passing. It is a cruel fate." She said bitterly.

"I cannot answer that question Naltariel, I do not think that even the wisest could understand Iluvatar's choices." Legolas said softly, pulling her into a sympathetic embrace.

"Oh, Legolas, I miss him so terribly that I'm not quite sure what to do with myself!" She cried.

"Naltari, just remember that everything happens for a reason. Perhaps the reason why you also did not pass was that you are still needed for something important in Iluvatar's plan." He whispered.

She looked up into his face. "Legolas, promise me you won't die. I want you to promise! I could not stand to lose such a good friend as you as well as Haldir." She said vehemently.

A sad smile crept across his lips. "I promise, Naltariel. I wont die." He vowed, his eyes full of compassion for her.

"Good, now, I should get back to the infirmary to see if I can help any." She said and attempted to get to her feet. Legolas pulled her back down so that she fell on her rump on the steps again.

"You need to rest. You've hardly slept in two days." Legolas said in concern. "And when was your last meal?"

"I don't feel like eating, Legolas. You know what it feels like to lose a lover. Malina . . . how long did it take you to recover from her passing?" She asked quietly.

She saw her friend wince and immediately wished she could have taken her words back. Malina had been his fiancé, they were to be married but she had not showed up at the altar. They had found her body a week after her disappearance on the bank of a river, her throat slit. They still did not know who had done it, but the blame was placed on the Orcs that wandered Mirkwood.

"I . . . it. . . I haven't recovered yet. I carry much anger towards the Orcs, but I have confidence that when we meet again we will still be very much in love." He said slowly.

Naltariel nodded and looked back across the courtyard. She saw Aragorn and Eomer talking together on the other side of the square and every so often they would raise their heads to look across the enclosure and watch her. She was obviously the center of their discussion. She continued her sweep across the courtyard and found Gimli and Eowyn talking animatedly closer by.

"I am traveling with you tomorrow to Gondor." She said suddenly, but firmly.

Legolas stared at her in shock for a moment. "No!" He exclaimed. "It is too dangerous for you!"

"I am a powerful healer; I would be a valuable attribute for a company leading to war." Naltariel said stubbornly.

"I will not allow it." Legolas said immovably. "You will stay in Edoras with the rest of the women and children."

Her cheeks flushed with anger. "You cannot tell me what to do, Legolas. I am a woman now, and have say over my own affairs." She snapped and got to her feet.

"You are still a child, Naltariel. Sharing your bed with Haldir did not give you wisdom." Legolas replied hotly, standing so he towered over her.

Her eyes flashed with rage at the insult, she lifted her hand and brought it swiftly across her friend's cheek. He didn't try to avoid it or stop her; he knew he deserved it for what he had just said. The sound of her striking him echoed in the courtyard, but she didn't care. She turned on her heel to flee from him but ran straight into Eomer's chest.

Eomer put his arms out to steady her but she stubbornly pushed them away. "Is everything alright?" He asked, eyeing the other Elf, with a red handprint across his cheek, suspiciously.

"Everything is fine." Naltariel snapped. She could feel both Eomer and Legolas' eyes on her.

"Very well then. Lady Naltariel, may I escort you to where you were heading?" Eomer asked politely. Naltariel smiled and nodded her head, wrapping her arm in his. She sent a last withering look to Legolas before turning away and heading back to the infirmary with Eomer.

"Are you sure you are all right, My Lady?" Eomer asked again, worry etched upon his face. "You looked rather angry with Legolas."

"I am fine, My Lord." She said quietly, her anger had faded almost completely now that she was away from the presence of Legolas. The nerve of him to say such a thing. Lawfully, she was a woman now though she knew that the event had not given her wisdom. It wasn't something to be discussed openly in a courtyard either, especially not after her lover's death.

"Very well." Eomer said quietly and a tension thick silence sat between them for some moments there afterwards. Suddenly Naltariel could not stand the silence anymore.

"Allow me to go to Gondor with you and your men." She blurted suddenly. If she had Eomer's permission there would be nothing Legolas could say or do to stop her.

Eomer paused in mid-step and turned to look at her. "Absolutely not!" He cried, shock written upon his face. "I have barely begun to train you in weaponry and you think you are ready to face war?"

"I do not wish to go as a warrior, My Lord. I have seen too much blood and death already for want to cause more of it. I wish to travel with you as a healer. I -" Eomer cut off her appeal.

"No. No. No. No. And No!" He said firmly. "I will not risk having you out there with those gruesome creatures. In their hands, your fate would be worse than death." He said and gently brushed his strong callused hand across her cheek.

She looked up at him in wonder at his gentle caress and saw the emotions swirling clearly in his eyes. He was scared, scared to lose her, scared to lose his kingdom, scared to lose his men. He was nervous of the upcoming battle, knowing there would be little hope left in the people of Gondor.

She noticed that his hand was still resting gently on her cheek and that his eyes were focused on her slightly parted lips. In a moment of clarity she realized that this Man cared for her, perhaps not love, but he definitely carried affection for her and she knew he would do anything to keep her safe.

She unconsciously licked her lips, a habit of nervousness she'd had since she was a child. She saw his eyes close partway as he began to move his head closer to hers. Her heart started racing and her mind started screaming at her to move, that if she let him kiss her she was being disloyal to Haldir but her body wouldn't listen and she stayed where she was, her head tilting upward slightly to meet him. Then . . .

"Eomer! I need your help in the drawing room, we must plan our tactics." Theoden called. Eomer's head jerked back in surprise and Naltariel's cheeks flushed bright red, she bowed her head to hide her embarrassment but he had already seen.

"Um..." Eomer started nervously. "Can we. . . talk later?"

"I . . . can't. I'll be busy in the infirmary." She said shakily and took a step away from him.

"Naltariel. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. It was very wrong of me." Eomer said quickly.

She nodded her head slightly, keeping her head down so he wouldn't see the mortification on her face. "Go to your Uncle, Eomer. He needs you." Then she turned and fled down the corridor to her chambers. She closed the door behind her and sank to the floor. Her heart was still pounding like war drums and her face still felt warm. What had just happened?

What had he been thinking? He stood still in the corridor they had been in and he could still smell the scent of her perfume. It was driving him crazy, his heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was racing. He replayed the event over and over in his mind and each time he felt like driving his own sword through his heart.

She had been ashamed. She probably hadn't moved away because she was scared of him. She had obviously been told that all Men were lecherous by her father and he was doing nothing to improve that prejudiced statement.

He sighed and shook his head; he would have to sort this out later. He turned and headed to the drawing room to help the King with his battle plans. When he arrived he saw that Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were included with Rohan's various war captains. He silently sat in one of the many chairs and the discussion began.

Several hours passed and they still had not come up with suitable war plan when another problem arose, what to do with Isengard now that it was defenseless. Gandalf suggested that he and the King go to Orthanc alone, but the rest of the council would not have it, so it was finally agreed that Theoden, Gandalf, Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and Eomer as well as the Riders of Rohan were to go to Orthanc to assess the damage done to the White Wizard.

Eomer felt like breaking into applause. The first decision of the day had been made and the joy that was overwhelming him was nearly more than he could handle, he thought sarcastically. He sighed; he'd had quite enough of listening to war tactics and battle strategies.

His thoughts drifted back to his incident with Naltariel and he mentally rebuked himself. Why could he not keep his thoughts off her? Especially after humiliating himself during their incident in the hall. He rebuked himself again for being so heartless; she had just lost her lover.

He was able to withstand three more hours of mindless war debate before he excused himself, pleading exhaustion and grief. The others nodded in understanding and gave him their leave. He quietly closed the door behind him and hurried towards the infirmary, he had best sort out the attempted kiss conversation before he left and perhaps did not return.

As he entered the large room set away for the sick and wounded, he was surprised by how few were actually still in the healers care. He saw a healer sitting quietly behind a table studying some medical volumes; she didn't even look up when he stepped near her.

Eomer looked around. "Why are there so few left in the infirmary? Have we lost that many?" He asked sadly.

"Oh, no, My Lord! The Lady Elf has healed most of the patients. These that are left in here have less serious wounds that will be healed when she returns. We have only lost two and that was before she could get to them." She said animatedly.

He nodded in approval. "Have you seen Lady Naltariel?" He asked.

"No, My Lord, not since early this morning when Master Legolas ordered her to rest some or else she would tire herself out." The healer said politely.

Eomer nodded his thanks at her assistance and turned down the corridor with his heart pounding in his chest. She had said she was going to the infirmary and she hadn't. Could she have possibly have been so scared of him that she'd fled back to Lorien? He hoped not, especially unescorted. He pounded on her door as soon as he got to it and waited, holding his breath, for a reply.

"Who is it?" Her musical voice called from inside and his entire body sagged with relief.

"It's Eomer. Can we talk?" He asked.

"Um . . . you'll have to hold on a moment, I'm in the bath." She called and he could hear the swish of water through the door as she moved. His head fell against the door as he tried to banish the thought of exactly what she looked like at that moment.

A few minutes later the door swung partly open and he could barely see the image of her wrapped in a robe. All thoughts left his mind. He swallowed convulsively and took a deep breath, wondering exactly what he had come to talk to her about when she arched a puzzled eyebrow at him.

"Lady Naltariel. . ." He said huskily.

"Have you changed your mind, My Lord? Can I accompany you to Gondor?" She asked hopefully, opening the door a bit further.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he came tumbling back to reality. "No." He said with a sigh. "The road is too dangerous and I will not have your death on my conscience."

She glared at him and shut the door in his face, not caring that he was royalty and she was in his kingdom. "Then leave me be. But I warn you now, I will not sit by in Edoras when I could be helping people elsewhere."

"Naltariel, we need to talk." Eomer said firmly.

"Then talk, I'm listening." She snapped angrily and he heard the bolt slid over the door, locking him out.

"This isn't. . ." He sighed. "It's about what happened earlier."

He heard something hit the other side of the door and winced. "What about it?" She sighed resignedly.

Eomer paused for a moment as he thought of something to say. "I'm sorry." He said lamely.

"Apology accepted, now please leave me be." She said quietly. Eomer squeezed his eyes shut, well, what had he expected? He had blatantly disrespected her time to mourn her lover. He had advanced on her against her will and now he was disappointed that she wasn't casting it aside as a bit of harmless flirting.

"As you wish, My Lady." He managed to strangle out. He turned from the door to find Aragorn's piercing gray eyes studying him. "Lord Aragorn, can I help you?" He asked tightly.

Aragorn said nothing and neither did his expression, "Mere concern?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This does not concern you." He snapped harshly.

"Oh, but it does. She is to be my future kin, I do not like to see her distressed." Aragorn said dangerously.

Eomer glared at Isildur's heir. "The reason she is distressed, My Lord, is because she wishes to ride to Gondor with us tomorrow." He bit out.

Aragorn sighed and shook his head. "There is more grief and hardship to getting involved with an Elf than there is happiness. The happiness is well worth the struggle, as is all love, but the battle is twice as hard, my friend."

"I told you -" Eomer began, angered that this ranger could still see through him.

"I know what you told me." The future king interrupted. "It is just a word of advice should you change your mind. She is like a little sister to me, I would hate . . ." He stopped when the door swung open and Naltariel glared at them both. She was clothed now, in a riding dress, but her hair was still a wet tangle hanging down her back.

"That is quite enough! From the both of you!" She snapped, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Naltariel, I was just coming to see you." Aragorn said patiently, ignoring her anger.

"And dropping off a bit of courting advice along the way, Estel?" She demanded. Both Men looked away from her ashamed. "Nothing to say?"

"Telwa, Naltariel." (Later) Aragorn pleaded.

"Si, Estel." (Now) She demanded.

"Inye maquet hynlya." (I ask your forgiveness) Aragorn pleaded. She glared.

"You look like a winter's dawn, Naltariel." Eomer said quietly. "Cold and bitter."

"As I should, I have resigned myself to my fate. Unless you allow me to ride with you into Gondor, I will return to my home." She snapped bitterly.

Eomer's heart sank, he could not risk her riding into Gondor with them, but he didn't want to lose her either. Somehow he wanted her to stay where she was, patiently waiting his return. He let out a long sigh.

"There aren't enough men to escort you back home." He said, hoping that she would believe him.

"Nonsense, word has reached my ears that the Elvish contingent that joined you in battle here is not following you into Gondor. I will ride with them." She replied hotly.

"If you wait for my return, I will escort you back to Lorien myself." Eomer tried to plead, he couldn't lose her. Not now.

"And do what until then? Sit alone in a city full of people I don't know to wallow in my grief?" She asked.

"Eowyn will be here." He said, convincingly.

She went silent for a moment, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why can't I go with my people?"

Eomer took a deep breath, remembering now that Aragorn was standing only a few feet away. "Because I would miss you." He said bravely, looking up into her eyes. The door was slammed in his face before he could blink.

His forehead dropped against the cool stone wall of the corridor and he could hear Aragorn's low chuckle. "You find this funny, Lord Aragorn?" Eomer asked in defeat.

"In a way, my friend. Naltariel is a fickle thing. Come, let us discuss this." Aragorn suggested, draping an arm over Eomer's shoulder and pulling him away from the wall. He had Eomer laughing by the time they reached the end of the corridor by the telling of the crazy things she had done.

Naltariel seethed. How dare they speak of such things? And especially right outside her door! She tossed the things she had brought with her into her riding pack and headed down to the stables, her hair still wet from her bath.

She found Laurea easily, but standing next to her stall were Legolas and Gimli. "My Lords." She said stiffly, tossing the pack over the side of the stables gate.

"Where are you going, Naltari?" Legolas asked warily.

"Nowhere at the moment. Just preparing for tomorrow." She answered.

"You're not coming to Gondor." Legolas said firmly.

She turned to Vaiwa and stroked her silvery neck then turned to the Dwarve. "I give Vaiwa to you as a gift, Gimli son of Gloin. I hope that we will meet again some time in the future. Take care of her." She said gently then bent to kiss his forehead in blessing. "Be careful in Gondor."

She turned hesitantly back to Legolas and kissed his cheek. "May the Vala be with you." She whispered.

"Where are you going to go?" He asked as he drew her into an embrace.

"Back home, or to Imladris. Whichever my father decides." She said emotionlessly. "Or perhaps I will sail west."

"Naltari, you cannot wed Lathun, you are not innocent anymore. He will be furious!" Legolas cried out.

Naltariel's eyes went wide at his sudden outburst, her cheeks flaming. "Well, thank you for pronouncing that to all of Rohan." She hissed.

He lowered his voice. "And your father will be mortified when Lathun tells him. Your father has a mean temper when provoked." He said.

"Do you think you need to remind me of that?" She asked. "But where else am I to go? I cannot stay here."

"Who is escorting you?" Legolas asked.

"Orophin and Rumil. I will be returning with the Lorien Elves." She answered, turning back to Vaiwa to say her goodbyes. "If ever you are lost, dear friend, return to me." She whispered, stroking her fingers through the horse's mane.

"Ask them to take you to Mirkwood. My father would welcome you warmly; he has not seen you in quite some time." Legolas suggested.

"My father will have already have told your father that I'd ran away. He would send me back to Lothlorien in a heartbeat." She argued.

"Your father is ashamed of this incident; he will try to keep it within Lorien's borders as much as possible." Legolas reasoned. "Please, Naltari, I would not have you go into an unhappy marriage."

She sighed and buried her face in Vaiwa's neck. "I will try to arrange it." She muttered.

"Good." Legolas said.

She turned to him then. "Thank you, Legolas. For everything you've ever done for me, and for everything you're doing now. I am glad to have you as my friend."

He pulled her into a hug. "Don't make this sound like a final goodbye. I made a promise, remember?"

She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. "And you'd better keep your word."

She heard him chuckle as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. "I will. I have no intention of dying quite yet." He said.

She stepped back and stared at him for a moment then they both extended their right hands to the others cheek then brought them over their hearts in an old Elvish gesture.

"I must go now; I have things yet to attend to and must rise early in the morning." She said quietly. She smiled at the Dwarve again. "It was a pleasure to meet my first Dwarve, Master Gimli. And with how well we've gotten along, and how well you've gotten along with Legolas, it's a wonder that our races are not in tight friendship. Take care of Vaiwa." She said with a laughing smile.

They both bowed to her and she turned and left the stables, heading back for the keep. The villagers would go back to Edoras, the soldiers to Gondor, the Elves to Lothlorien, and she . . . she would take her own path.

She walked silently through the keeps corridors, searching for the room that belonged to Eomer. She found it rather quickly, it being at the end of the corridor her own chambers were on.

She knocked on the door but there was only silence inside, so she hesitantly opened the wooden door. The fire was burning in the hearth, but no one occupied the room. She was thankful for that, it would be easier this way. She wouldn't have to watch his dark, brown eyes swirl with confusion and anger.

She grabbed a piece of parchment and unstopped an ink bottle. She took a deep breath to collect her thoughts as she sat down at the desk and picked up the quill. She closed her eyes briefly and began to write.

To my Vala,

Your plea for me to stay, however heartfelt, is not a strong enough purpose for me to remain. I don't think I ever did thank you for saving me so many times, or at least none I can recall, and so now is my thank you. I have taken from you and given nothing in return and so I leave you the Estelara. Be a light to your people, guide them through darkness and never despair. I will be with you.

If ever we meet again, and under better circumstances, I should hope, I will still be indebted to you. But be wary, though your price may be high, I will set my limit. Everything has a boundary.

Stay safe in Gondor, you will be in my prayers.

Your Naltariel.

She stopped the ink bottle again and put the letter into an envelope with the address of my "My Vala" written in script on the front. She pulled the Estelara from around her throat and dropped it into the envelope. She had memories of Haldir, she did not need the Estelara to remind her of his death.

She sealed the envelope with wax and tossed it onto the pillow on his bed; he would find it when he came in for the night. Now she only had two more stops before she would be ready.

She hurried down the corridor to Eowyn's room and knocked on the door. She answered it, but not in a nightgown with sleep mussed hair, as Naltariel had expected. She had a riding cloak wrapped tightly around her, hiding her garb from sight.

Naltariel smiled. "What do you have planned, my friend?" She asked, letting herself into the room.

Eowyn laughed. "I'll tell you my plan, if you tell me yours." She said, leading her guest to the small table in her chambers.

"I leave tonight. This is my farewell." Naltariel said quietly as Eowyn grabbed two glasses and a decanter of wine, pouring them each half full. They tapped their glasses together, the light clink sounding ominously loud in the quiet room.

"Where will you go?" Eowyn asked as she took a sip of her wine.

"To Gondor, but by a different route. The men will travel on the Great West Road, heading for the city of Minas Tirith, or so I heard them plan this morning. I will follow the Entwash to where it meets with the Anduin and travel south from there to Osgiliath.

"I will help as much as I can in the infirmary there, to heal the wounded for that seems to be all I am capable of doing well and that city seems to be in much need." She explained. Eowyn had quickly become Naltariel's dearest friend; they shared a relationship few people had, where there were no secrets. "And you?"

Eowyn smiled and opened her cloak, revealing chain mail armor and a short sword. Naltariel gasped, "You don't mean to go with them, do you?"

"Of course I do! I will not be locked away when I can help." She cried in surprise.

"Tell me you're not doing this for Aragorn." She demanded. Eowyn's grin faltered. "Oh, Eowyn, I'm so sorry. His heart belongs to Arwen, my sister's daughter. That is where he got the jewel he wears around his neck."

She rose her chin proudly, but Naltariel could see the unshed tears in her eyes. "He told me of his Elf lover, I go not for Aragorn. I will not be caged." She said defiantly.

Naltariel finished her wine and pulled her friend into an embrace. "We will see each other again when this is all done with. Come to Osgiliath when the battle is over and there we will rejoice. Be careful out there, my prayers will go with you, my friend."

"You be careful, Elf. You'll be traveling alone." Eowyn said indignantly. "I'll have a whole army to protect me."

Naltariel frowned. "You mustn't tell a single soul about this, where I've truly gone, especially not to your brother." She said.

"I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." Eowyn said.

Naltariel nodded and walked back towards the door. "Stay safe." She whispered before slipping out of the room and down the hall. She found her way to Aragorn's chambers and didn't even bother knocking before she let herself in; she knew he wouldn't be there until the campaign was planned.

She walked over to the table and wrote a simple note on a piece of parchment.

Estel,

Until we meet again.

Naltariel.

She slipped silently out of Aragorn's room and down towards the stables. It was late now and few people were still walking about the halls so she managed to slip by unnoticed. Vaiwa gave a small whinny when she entered the stable but she quickly silenced it to keep the stable boys from waking up.

She picked up her travel pack and silently opened the gate to Laurea's stable. She pressed a last kiss to Vaiwa's nose then led her white mare out of the stable. Once outside and in the protection of the shadows she fastened the pack over Laurea's back and put on her cloak.

She took a calming breath before jumping up onto the white mares back and galloping out of the gaping hole in the Deeping Wall that was left by the Orcs. She looked back once at the huge fortress. The fortress that had claimed Haldir's life, then concentrated on her route. It would be a two day ride to the Entwash and she would have to ford the Snowbourn, then another three days until the reached the Rohan-Gondor border and have to ford Mering Stream as well. Then six days to Cair Andros and another two days to Osgiliath. Thirteen days total, providing everything went as planned.


	11. Healing Dreams

Eomer could not keep the grin off his face, the stories Aragorn had told him about Naltariel were hilarious. Like when she had dared Aragorn to jump from one of the waterfalls in Imladris. He had refused and she had tried to throw him in as a prank, but he had grabbed hold of her and it had been she that had tumbled over the edge. He had said that she wouldn't even go near him for almost two weeks.

He yawned as he opened the door to his chambers. It was only a few hours until dawn when they would have to ride out to Gondor's aide, but Aragorn's tales had been too fascinating to pass up. He would probably be grumpy to his men in the morning, but he would feel better after riding for a couple hours.

He frowned when he saw a sealed envelope sitting on his pillow face down. It bore his own seal, he turned it over to look at the front and his heart skipped a beat. It was addressed to "My Vala", the name Naltariel had used for him on several occasions.

He unsealed the envelope hurriedly and the Estelara dropped into his hand. He stared at it for long moments, his thoughts swirling in his head. She had given him the Estelara, what could that mean? Did she return his feelings for her? Or was it something else?

He pulled out the letter she'd left for him and felt his heart sinking with each word. She wasn't staying and she didn't return his feelings. He clasped the gold and amber pendant tight in his hand as he stared down at the letter. He had to talk to her, before she was gone, possibly forever.

He stuffed the letter in his pocket and hurried out the door and down the corridor. He pounded on her door but she didn't answer. He felt an increasing feeling of dread growing on him so he forced open the door. If she was hurt, he would kill whoever was responsible.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of her room, but when they did he felt his heart stop. Any sign that she had once inhabited the room had been removed. She was gone.

He took a deep breath before turning and running down another corridor. He knocked loudly on the Elf Legolas' room, he had seen them together in the stable earlier, perhaps, at least he had gone with her, or he knew where she was. His hopes were dashed when the blonde elf opened the door, fully alert and ready for battle.

"Do you know where Naltariel is?" Eomer demanded.

Legolas frowned. "Is she not in her chambers?" He asked.

"I just checked. It's empty, completely empty, as though she'd never been there. All of her possessions are gone." He replied in a rush.

"Perhaps the Lorien Elves decided to leave tonight. She was going to leave with them and head for my home in Mirkwood with Haldir's brothers." Legolas suggested.

"The Elves have not left. I've been down in the main hall until only a few minutes ago. And . . . she left me a letter." He revealed.

"A letter saying what?" Legolas asked suspiciously.

"Read it yourself, perhaps you can decipher more into it than I." Eomer replied, fishing the letter out of his right pocket. It was then that he noticed the Estelara was still in his left hand. He handed the letter over to the Elf and watched the Elf's eyes scan over the words.

"She gave you the Estelara? That is a mighty gift. Where is it now?" Legolas asked in surprise. Eomer opened his palm, revealing the gold and amber pendant. Legolas looked down at it for a moment in silence. "Do you know what it is?"

"A symbol to her people, she told me." Eomer answered.

"Keep it near your heart at all times, Eomer. You are the Morning Hope now." Legolas said, putting his hand on the Man's shoulder.

"Do you know where she has gone?" Eomer asked wearily.

Legolas sighed. "My dreams were dark this night, of a white mare riding alone into the shadow. Check first with Haldir's brothers, Orophin and Rumil, for she said she was going to speak to them when she left me."

"And if she is gone?" Eomer asked.

Legolas took a deep breath. "If she is gone, then we can do nothing but pray for the grace of the Vala to travel with her."

Eomer growled in frustration, damn Elf, why couldn't she stay put? "I will go find the Lorien Elves, will you take word of this to Aragorn?" He asked. Legolas nodded and hurried down the corridor to find Isildur's heir.

Eomer ran out into the courtyard on the eastern side of the fortress where the Elves had made camp and quickly found Orophin and Rumil. "Is Lady Naltariel with you?" He asked quickly, ignoring all formality.

They narrowed their eyes and shook their heads in unison. "I thought she was in her chambers." Orophin said.

Eomer shook his head. "She told Aragorn and I that she was traveling back to Lorien with your Elves, but she told Legolas that you were taking her to Mirkwood. And now she is gone."

"She did not ask us to escort her anywhere. The last thing she told us was that she would be going back to Edoras with your people." Rumil replied, Eomer could see the concern etched across the Elf's face.

"We are due to return to Lorien, our borders are vulnerable right now and we fear an attack from the Moria Orcs. We cannot go to her; you must send riders after her, Eomer!" Orophin said desperately.

"However much I wish to, I cannot. We do not have the men to spare." Eomer sighed in defeat. "Every man counts at this point."

Orophin put a hand on his shoulder. "She has taken her fate into her own hands." He said forlornly. "There is nothing we can do now besides pray for a safe crossing to wherever it is she's going. Forgive us, Eomer, for our harsh treatment to you in the past. I rename you Elf-friend, Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of the Rohirrim. Now get some sleep, my friend."

Eomer nodded and returned to his chambers slowly. Someone had come back in and rebuilt the fire. He pulled off his armor and clothes until he was left with only his trousers, then he dropped down onto the bed. He stared at the pendant in his hand, his finger tracing its intricate design.

_Keep it near your heart at all times, Eomer. You are the Morning Hope now_. He remembered Legolas' words and slowly clasped the chain around his throat. _Be a light to your people. _

He sighed and dropped his head down onto his pillow, trying desperately for sleep, but it wouldn't come to him. Instead he kept seeing her, it didn't matter if his eyes were opened or closed. A short while later he heard a loud knock on his door.

"Who is it?" Eomer called.

"Aragorn."

Eomer sighed and got out of bed to open the door. Aragorn stood before him with a worried expression etched into his face. "This isn't you're fault, Eom -" He stopped when his eyes landed on the Estelara hanging around his throat.

"Have you found her?" Eomer asked hopefully.

Aragorn shook his head sadly. "Legolas told me she left you a letter, I hope it contained more words than my own."

"She left you a letter? What did it say?" Eomer asked.

"Until we meet again. That's all, did yours have more of a message to it?" Aragorn asked.

"Yes, two whole passages. Don't I feel lucky." Eomer muttered sarcastically as he picked up the letter from the table.

"And you should, that is not a mere trinket she's given you." Aragorn replied, stepping into the room and taking the letter from his friend.

"And yet no one can tell me exactly what it is." Eomer replied as he crossed her arms over his chest.

Aragorn looked up from reading the letter. "It is a blessing, Eomer. She has given you a part of herself, a part of the blessing the Elves received from the Valar." Aragorn said firmly. "Did you not know?"

"It did not save her lover." Eomer reminded him.

"That was Haldir's fate, Eomer. Something that was meant to be, although I do not know why. Get some rest; we leave in three hours time." Aragorn said sharply, handing the letter back to Eomer.

Naltariel frowned as she slowed Laurea's pace, something was amiss. She looked around suspiciously, her eyes and ears alert for any danger. Laurea twitched nervously beneath her and then she caught sight of the source of her nervousness.

All around her were the arrows of Men. Not the men of Rohan, nor did she believe of Gondor, but of a primitive tribe. Wild Men. She did not meet their gaze so as not to cause a panic and urged Laurea into a slow pace.

She had been traveling five days now without incident, she had forded the Mering Stream earlier that day and pass into Anorien, the first province of Gondor. The Wild Men did not fire on her however, but keep a wary vigilance over her passing.

Eventually she grew not to fear their presence and pulled her hood from her head. She turned to one of them and gave a cautious nod in greeting. He nodded back but didn't put down his bow. Instead he turned and said something in a language she didn't understand to someone behind him.

An hour later she stopped Laurea again, she could hear the sound of hoof beats coming towards her. She looked around anxiously; Orcs did not ride horses, which meant that whoever was approaching her was either a Man or an Elf.

She looked back to the Wild Men in the surrounding forest, keeping her to her path. If she tried to flee, they would fire on her. She had no choice but to continue on her present path. She took a deep breath and loosened her sword in its sheath; she might as well look like she knew how to use it.

She continued on her path, Laurea walking slowly as Naltariel warily eyed the trees. She knew that if she was to be ambushed she would have no chance or survival or escape. A short while later she saw a score of horses coming towards her in a loose formation.

She stopped and sat taller on Laurea's back, looking prouder as she waited for the oncoming horses. They came to her, swathed in the furs of animals with long unkempt hair and the bones of birds braided into their hair like beads. The one at the head of the formation, she assumed to be the chief, carried a mace of carved stone.

He stopped twenty feet away from her and put a hand over his chest, bowing his head slightly. She imitated the same gesture, giving the man her respect. If she was in his realm, he could have killed her without notice.

"Ghan-buri-Ghan." He said gruffly. "What Elf's name?"

She watched him nervously. "I am Naltariel, of the Golden Wood."

The man grunted and nodded his head. "Darkness is ahead." He said.

"I am an Elven Healer heading to the stone city of Osgiliath to aid the wounded." She answered. "I am aware there is danger ahead."

"Orc-folk are not at Osgiliath. Orc-folk and gorgun are at White City." Ghan-buri-Ghan replied, nudging his horse ahead.

Naltariel's brow furrowed as she wondered what a gorgun was, but she dismissed it, thinking it only to be another type of Orc, perhaps their name for the Uruk-Hai. "I have been told that Osgiliath has been under siege for many weeks. There are people there I could heal."

The Wild Man watched her intensely for a few minutes and an unnatural silence fell in the woods around them. Naltariel swallowed nervously, aware that her fate was about to be decided. Finally the Man grunted, signaling that he's made his decision.

"We take Elf of Golden Wood to the stone city on the river for a price." He finally said.

Naltariel's heart sank, she had brought no gold or silver and the one thing she could have bargained with, she had given to Eomer. "I have nothing with which to pay you." She said quietly.

"My son hurt by Orc-folk. Dying." Ghan-buri-Ghan said. "Heal him, we take you to city."

Naltariel sighed in relief. "Of course. Lead the way." She said. Things had gone much better than she'd hoped. Not only were they going to leave her alive, but they were going to escort her too. All she had to do was heal the chief's son.

They led her through the wilderness to a primitive village; ramshackle huts with wood smoke trailing out of a hole in the roofs surrounded her. She kept her eyes plastered to the ground in front of Laurea as immodestly dressed women and barbaric men watched her ride by. She found herself wondering if she had just wandered willingly to her demise when one man from the street walked bravely towards her, lust evident in his eyes.

He reached out to pull her from her horse when he was suddenly beat away with the chief's stone mace. "Not yours, Arog-una-Arog." The chief said firmly as the lustful man held his temple to try to stem the blood of the blow he had received. "Come, Naltariel of the Golden Wood."

She obediently followed, thankful that Ghan-buri-Ghan had protected her from the other man. He led her to a larger hut that had been put together with more care and had animal furs hanging around the outside of it.

They dismounted and she followed the chief inside, the rest of the party waiting outside the door. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the hut, but when they did she saw an overweight, middle-aged woman kneeling next to a young boy of perhaps fifteen, as she could tell from her time spent in Edoras.

Naltariel frowned as the woman took a salve from a pot and began to smear it onto the boy's wounds. She stepped closer, looking at the injuries closely before shaking her head.

"Athelas will not save him; he has not been poisoned by the dark touch of the Nazgul. He has been poisoned by the Orcs, whose poison is nothing less than an infection left by the wastes of vermin." She said, lowering herself slowly to kneel next to the other woman.

"Healers gave him medicine." She said despairingly as she nodded to the sweet smelling green salve smeared across the boys chest. "Please, save my son." She pleaded.

Naltariel looked back to the boy, he had been stabbed in the left side of his chest and it looked to go deep. It must have just missed his heart, for if it had pierced it, the boy would have been dead already.

She took a cloth and wet in it a bowl of cool water then washed off the newly applied Athelas salve. She looked close at the wound, it was nasty, the edges had all gone red and puss seeped from the festering wound.

She spoke softly to the boy in old elvish, telling him not to despair as she hesitantly put her hand over the gaping wound. She had seen worse injuries in the infirmary at Helm's Deep, but these people were wary of her already, and if he cried out in pain she did not know how they would take it.

The chief stepped up beside her and put his hand over his chest. "He is man now. He knows pain." Ghan-buri-Ghan said proudly.

She sighed and closed her eyes, letting the healing words flow from her lips as easily as the song of the Nimrodel then she pressed down her hand on the ghastly wound. The boy moaned in pain but didn't move, he was too far gone for more of a response.

Then everything else disappeared and there was only the wounded boy. She concentrated on his heart first, willing the tissues to mend themselves and to beat strongly again. It obeyed her gentle command and she heard the boy gasp as his heartbeat grew strong again. Next, she willed the infection to leave him, to flee from the blessed light within the Elves. And it fled from her touch, leaving only the skin to be mended.

She concentrated on healing the membrane, of bringing the separated parts together. She could feel it coming together underneath her finger, feel the skin moving itself, reaching for its partner on the other side of the wound. And then there was no more she could do.

She let out a deep breath and sagged down, her head falling forward as she fought to keep herself from toppling over. She was exhausted; she had traveled for nearly three days now without rest and now her energy was all but spent.

She felt herself being pulled into the firm embrace of the boy's mother as she babbled on through her tears of how grateful she was. "He is not well yet. He has a fever, but I can do nothing to help him with that." Naltariel murmured, and then she fell into unconsciousness.

Eomer walked restlessly around the camp, his thoughts swirling in confusion and helplessness. Why had she gone by herself into a land that she knew was dangerous? He couldn't even think straight. He needed to know she was safe, because if he didn't find out soon his chances of surviving in the upcoming battle were slim to none. She was all he could think about.

"Eomer, my friend." He heard the familiarly accented voice of Legolas call from behind him. He turned to face the Elf. "Rest. She is safe." He said confidently.

"And what if she's not?" Eomer asked.

"I would know. Trust me, Eomer, she is like a sister to me and I would know if harm has befallen her." Legolas said quietly, coming up to stand in front of him.

"Yet I do not know, and that is what worries me. I would like to know for certain that she was alright, not just an assumption based on intuition. I would like to have her safely back in Edoras with my sister, Eowyn." Eomer said dejectedly.

"As would we all, but fate has not placed it that way." Legolas replied.

"If she gets hurt, I swear I will hunt down every Orc in Middle-Earth before I rest." Eomer vowed, turning to look over the fire lit camp.

"You would have much help, my friend." Legolas said grimly.

"Why did she give me the Estelara?" He asked, hoping the Elf knew what the meaning behind the gift was.

Legolas shook his head. "That I cannot tell you. She tends to keep her reasoning to herself until she feels the need to reveal it. When you meet again, perhaps you will receive your answer." Eomer sighed in frustration, that hadn't been the answer he'd wanted to hear. "Get some rest, my friend. She is safe for the moment, we should be thankful for that."

Eomer nodded and returned to his bedroll, spreading out over the thin mat. He closed his eyes and tried desperately for sleep and eventually it came to him, slow and elusive like mist in the early morning.

He opened his eyes to see Naltariel standing next to her white mare looking travel worn but unhurt. "Rest easily, my lord. Do not be troubled by my disappearance." She said quietly as she studied him intently.

"I will not rest easy until I know you are safe." He replied. "Where are you?"

"I am in the wilds and I'm quite safe, I assure you." She answered stepping closer to him, her eyes resting on the Estelara hanging visibly over his armor. She smiled sadly. "You wear it."

He glanced down at the jewel for a moment. "Of course." He answered his hand reaching out to caress her cheek. He was surprised when she felt solid, not a mere illusion of his sleep deprived mind. "Where are you traveling to?"

"I dare not tell you, lest you send riders to fetch me back. I am following my fate, the path that was chosen for me." She answered.

"What is my fate?" He asked hesitantly.

"I cannot tell you" She answered.

"You are the daughter of wise Elves." He argued.

She sighed. "Your fate is set before you like path with a fork in it. I do not know where the fork lies nor will you until the chance to go back has long since past."

"Will I die?" He asked.

"You are mortal, it is inevitable. But pertaining to the upcoming battle, I cannot tell. Perhaps, perhaps not, it is not for me to decide. If you turn left down the path you will be given life, but the right path will bring you death." She said sadly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. His arms wrapped around her, holding her against his armored chest.

"Will I see you again?" He asked desperately.

"I do not know, that will depend upon your choices."

He sighed and held her tight, his cheek resting on the top of her head while she rested her head on his shoulder and traced the image of the horse of Rohan on his chest. They stayed like that for a long time, being comforted by each others presence until eventually Naltariel pulled out of his embrace.

"I must go now; I still have a long road ahead of me." She whispered.

"Stay safe, Naltariel. I will not rest easy until I know that for sure." He said gravely.

"I am safe, dear Eomer. Take heed of your own warning and you watch out for danger. Your path is much more hazardous than my own." She replied, smiling playfully.

He cupped her chin in his hand and brought his lips gently down onto hers. She tasted like the morning dew; he thought hazily, his hand moving to caress her cheek. Their moment was over far too soon, and he reluctantly let her go, knowing in his heart that it was no more than a dream.

She jumped up onto the mare's back and looked back at him over her shoulder before urging Laurea into a gallop and disappearing from his sight. He sighed sadly, missing her already.


End file.
